Taxonomic Rank: A Zootopia One-Shot Collection
by Galimatias
Summary: "When I look at a person, I see a person - not a rank, not a class, not a title." -Criss Jami. A collection of oneshots about fighting the odds of nature's ranks for friendship and coming out on top.
1. Perspective

**As you can tell, I'm _wildly_ (pun intended) excited for the new Disney film Zootopia to hit films in March (only a few days after my birthday too! I know what _I'm_ doing! 21 years old, pathetically sitting in the back of a movie theater! _Happy Birthday to me, m'right_!) and was almost too excited to stop myself from writing fanfiction about it. Most of this is guesswork. And I don't want to just make up a plot because, honestly, where is the time? So for now, take _post movie_ (and perhaps, later, pre) drabbles and one shots featuring our two main characters.**

 **For those who don't know, the film "stars" a Rabbit named Judy Hopps who trained (and passed) to be a cop. Her part in the movie is trying to overcome the token role she's been placed in in order to prove her worth on the force.**

 **Our other lead is a Fox named Nick Wilde. He's pretty much what you'd expect. A wily, smooth talking scam artist with a penchant for tricking people out of their money in his hopes of "making it big" in the world of, what he believes to be, thieves and liars.**

 **The two natural enemies team up to fight crime and solve a mystery together.**

 **And if y'all know me (and I suspect that many of you do, at this point) then you know I have a vicious trend of _adoring_ stories about enemies becoming friends.**

 **Don't mess with me, peeps. I fucking _live_ for this shit.**

 **For those who have come here for romance, turn the other way! This story will _not_ contain romance between Nick and Judy. I love some good smoochin', but I have a deep love and appreciation for Best Friend duos and the struggles they go through, especially when the world is against them. So that's all you'll find here.**

 **And, if you did guess it, this story will mainly feature the struggles of two best friends who just happen to be predator and prey as they forge through their every day lives. Dammit, this is so much my aesthetic...**

 **Alright! On with the show!**

 **(APOLOGIES FOR THE RUSHED TONE OF THIS ONESHOT. I WROTE IT IN ABOUT 15 MINUTES AND CAME UP WITH THE IDEA ON A NAPKIN. ENJOY MY INSANITY)**

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 _Everything that's realistic has some sort of ugliness in it. Even a flower is ugly when it wilts, a bird when it seeks its prey, the ocean when it becomes violent._

~Sharon Tate

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Nick Wilde had never had much reason to change his perspective.

In his mind, perspective was the shift of an area around him, and he'd always been good at adapting. One never changed to fit what was around them. One merely moved on when it became inconvenient and found another place to call their own. That was life; simple and clean cut, black and white, easy and neat and clean.

Con or no con, at the end of a day of causing chaos, it was _order_ that he found the most comfort in.

Nick Wilde had never needed to change his perspective.

And his outlook, for the most part, had never changed either. He knew who he was, what he was.

He was Nick Wilde, con artist, Zootopian resident of six years. He was a Fox, a predator, a carnivore and had a fairly decent spot nuzzled into the mid point of the food chain. His favorite color was green, his favorite tie was blue and on his twenty ninth birthday (five years ago) he'd lost his favorite watch in a game of blackjack that could have very well lost him his life instead if they'd seen him counting the cards. He was tall enough, strong enough, cocky enough and smart enough to do what he needed to just get by.

And so that was what he did. He knew who he was and he got by on it.

Nick Wilde had never needed to change his perspective.

And then he'd met Judy Hopps.

It was odd, working with someone who thrived on order and sunk into chaos to find it. To her the world was a grey ball of unknown and in the center of it seemed to be herself. She wasn't sure who she was, what she was or what she would be. Her environment changed constantly, promotions and cases sending her reeling, personality strung on by a leash, following it wherever it went. Her favorite colors changed with the weather, her favorite clothes changed with the job (she'd accidentally fallen asleep in police uniform more than once, and had claimed that it just made it easier to get up in the morning) and was an emotional rollercoaster when emotions were needed.

Her flaws were substantial (self serving and a suck up to a fault) but they balanced themselves out with the need to please and the near infuriating belief that there was good in everyone.

Judy did more than get by. She pursued, she failed, she accepted, she lost and she won. She did far more than she had to and worked on _thriving_ , not just _surviving_.

She was also a Rabbit. An herbivore. And a natural enemy of all things with pointed teeth.

Especially Foxes.

Truly, it was _maddening_.

But it was also… something else.

There had been tension, of course. And there always would be. Arguments were common, slammed doors and crossed arms a staple of the strange partnership they'd created. She said things, he'd said more. Snippy comments made about predator and prey, accepting one's place in a crazy world that wanted to stamp you out were what had hurt her the most, and hearing them from him (after, as she'd explained, she'd heard them from the rest of the world) had stung the worst. Not that hearing about the sly, untrusting nature of Foxes had been any better coming from her.

It was around the fourth or fifth argument, storming back to his car, leaving her in her apartment most likely still glaring at the door, that he'd realized what had been so infuriating.

He cared.

Wilde had known too many animals in his life who, food chain, circle of life, kumbaya wise, were lower and higher than he was. They hadn't gotten along because they hadn't meant to get along. And that had been that. He stayed in his place, being wiley and scheming and altogether foxlike and they stayed in theirs, no doubt trying to ensnare him. And for the most part, everyone around him was happy enough to stay in the places he'd marked them with.

He hadn't needed to change his perspective to fit them into it.

And then there was Judy.

Fiercely loyal, awfully stubborn and horribly blind Judy, who seemed to think that she could ignore it all to be whatever she wanted. _You can be anything_ , she'd preached, while he'd thrown it into her face with a backhanded _you are what you are_. And yet, what she was and what she wanted to be couldn't be separated. And what she wanted to be, apparently, was under his skin.

She'd done all she could to try to change his perspective. Of himself. Of his world. Or maybe, _just maybe_ , she hadn't at all.

Perhaps she'd just been there and he'd hated her for it. She had dreams. He'd given up. Resentment put on a mask and pretended to be arrogance. But she'd been persistent. There had been a case to solve after all, and differences weren't so much as put aside as much as ignored entirely.

And then the case was over and they weren't left a Fox and a Rabbit. They were Judy and Nick. And that was all.

They'd had their downhill moments. On higher pressure days, where law and cons, prey and predator, didn't mix, there had been fights. He could still remember one- a case that had put her in the line of fire of a Bobcat and his 22. She'd nearly been grazed saving one of her fellow cops, and the police at the station had been in an appreciative uproar over her heroism.

Nick hadn't been as easy to please.

"Ya should've just let him get hit," He'd stormed into her small office, slamming the door behind him. "He's a hundred times your weight. If he didn't want to be such a target, he shouldn't have been born a rhino. But if you get hit- _What in the hell were you thinking_!"

"I was thinking that someone was going to get hurt," she replied, barely looking up from the paperwork she'd been filing, finishing up with the perps identification, loading him into their system. "I was nearby. I'm fast. It's fine."

"Did you ever _think_ in the grand scheme of things that maybe _you could've been that person_?"

"But I wasn't." She flickered her eyes up, smiling thinly. "Was I."

He wrung his hands through the air, puffing out his cheeks, pulling a million curses back into his throat before they spewed everywhere and made everything worse. " _I can't believe you_!" he said instead, fingers playing the air. "How can you be so _fine_ about this! You almost got _shot_!"

Judy slid the papers to the side, brow furrowing. Her ears twitched about nervously, sensing a fight brewing between them. " _But I wasn't_!"

Maybe it was that she simply didn't get it, or maybe it was more along the lines that he just couldn't say it. That she didn't hear the underlying message practically written out before him.

 _Don't you understand, you stupid Rabbit? I care about you. You're one of my closest friends. What would happen to me if you left? What would I do without you? What were you thinking putting yourself in danger like that? How could you- why would you- don't you realize how much you mean to me?_

It was selfish. Maybe too selfish. But he hardly cared, and his anger burned brighter when she stared at him, waiting for an explanation for it all. As if she'd never understand that he, a Fox, had somehow come to an odd point where he'd claimed an unannounced stamp of protection over a Rabbit. That they, natural enemies, now had each other.

The argument lashed out fast and hit its mark with the precision of a practiced and cruel tongue. He'd told her to stick to her place, stop trying so hard. No one gave two carrots about what a Bunny thought. And if she were to leave, who else would care but him.

She'd told him, for how could she not retort, that it was no wonder he'd said things like that- Foxes weren't to be trusted, after all, and she should have expected less.

Then he'd screamed something, she'd slammed the door and for the next ten minutes both had stewed in their anger, her pacing the floor of her meager office, him pounding his fists against the steering wheel of his car, grinding his teeth, wishing he'd had a bone to chew. Preferably a rabbits.

He'd left for home after that, locking his door and turning on the television to full volume to drown out the awful buzzing in his head. She'd retreated to her own studio, ignoring the worried glances of the other police who had heard the final dregs of a fight and keeping her head down on the train ride. Her neighbors had been too loud, her landlord, a higher-than-thou Lynx who was apparently less than happy about housing a Bunny in his building, had turned off her heat and electricity. And her parents had called. Twice.

He sulked on his couch. She lay on her bed and tried very hard not to cry.

In the end it was Nick who made the first move. He'd picked up his phone for the thousandth time. She was already there, her name screamed in caps on top of a string of texts from the day before. He'd thought that maybe a simple Hello would smooth things over or he'd get lucky and just say something clever and all would be forgiven. But it wouldn't have worked like that.

Not with Judy at least.

With anyone else it might have been different. But he'd never cared before. And this time…

His paw was on the green button before he could stop himself. Sitting on his ratty couch, picking at frayed bits with nervous anticipation, he waited for what seemed like hours, listening to the metal drumming and static of the phone working to connect him. She picked up on the fourth ring. "Nick?" She said his name cautiously, as if expecting the worst. He hated that.

"Judes. Hey…" he'd talked first, rubbing the back of his neck with an open palm, clearing his throat.

There was a sound on the other end, a sniffle maybe, and then- "Hey…" she replied back softly. It almost sounded like she'd been crying, and he flinched, giving his tie an involuntary tug, loosening it from around his neck. It had suddenly gotten hotter. She made another sound on the end, no doubt wiping her sleeve under her eyes, the flannel of her favorite shirt scraping the edge of the speaker.

He was silent another moment, listening to the sirens outside his own window blaring, the streetlights just coming out, flickering odd shadows when they hit the stacks of books and dvds on the table in front of him. "Look… I… I was just calling you because…" His ears folded back, the sharp hairs tickling the back of his neck. "H-how are you?"

"Fine…" she answered. "I'm… I mean- you?"

"Fine!" he parroted back too quickly.

"That's good…"

Silence, long and punishing. He closed his eyes and let out a sigh, guilt pushing its way from his chest. Oh god he'd screwed up. He'd screwed up so bad. Just hearing her voice on the other end was enough to send him reeling. Honestly, sometimes he truly did hate the person he had been, the one that persistently stuck around to wreak havoc time and time again. The one who wriggled out of the darkest places to remind him that he didn't need anyone.

… but he did need someone.

She might have been one of his first and only friends in the world, and if he was going to continue to listen to the whispers in the crevices then he might as well just say goodbye and end it all. It would be convenient to end it all. It would be easiest to end it all. Everything in the universe told him to just end it all because they were never meant to be friends, and it would be better for everyone if he listened for once in his life.

But…

He didn't want to end it all.

The words were tumbling out of both of them, both just as desperate and quick to get the first word in. "I'm-!"

But she was faster. "Yeah…" she cut him off. "Me too…"

There was a laugh on both sides, awkward and short, his ears rising a tad in hopeful endings. "I was just worried," he told her through another forced chortle. "I didn't mean- what I mean is that I didn't-"

"No…" she saved him from the embarrassing confession, her voice already growing stronger. "No, I get it. And I should've been more careful, really."

Wilde shook his head. "You're a cop," he pointed out fairly. "It's your job. And… and your really good at it. Things happen."

She laughed, and this time the sound was real. "I might be a cop, but I'm also _Judy_. And _Judy_ has friends that she'd like to see every so often. And if I'm careless I might not." He heard her make a sound, she'd shrugged, hummed, smiled. "You're my friend, Wilde. You have a right to be worried."

He felt his face heat up, his mouth tugging into a smile without the permission of its master. They didn't talk about it much. Friendship. It wasn't something that came up in everyday conversations. And with the constant pressure of a world that seemed to hate the very idea of a Rabbit and a Fox being more than just amicable, they'd silently agreed to put the very idea on the backburner and live as they did, side by side. He just hadn't expected that when it was brought into the heat, that hearing it out loud for the first time would be an odd, strange and wonderful admission.

Friends, Nick stewed, breathing out a chuckle. Yeah… yeah, that was what they were, wasn't it?

"Nick?"

Her voice through the other line, crackling through the static that sounded more and more like a broken coffee pot, broke him from his reveries. Ears shooting up, tail fluffing, his trademark grin was back on his face and he lounged back into the sofa. "Yeah," he drawled. "Sorry, Whiskers. Just thinking."

"About…?"

He shook his head. "Nothing." Trying to jump back into normalcy, drag them from whatever patch they'd found themselves stuck in. "How about 9 o'clock tonight? It's Wednesday, anyway."

Wednesday had been dubbed the Ram's night. A small bar run by a few sheep a few streets away from the precinct. It was a popular spot for officers and, despite the overwhelming presence of the Boys in Blue, any other person in the city. Not even perps seemed to be able to avoid it, and quite a few had been caught and cuffed standing in line for just a taste of the places famous dark brew. Judy, never a drinker, had been dragged their one Wednesday night by Nick after he'd promised her he'd buy her a beer (and pay for it with his own hard earned money, thank you very much) and that she'd like it.

She'd fought buck tooth and soft nail, but he'd managed to get her through the front door. They'd sat at a small back table, made shameless jokes at patrons, laughed until their sides hurt and shared an order of the greasiest fried okra ever. And she had liked the beer. So much so that, white foam mustache against her upper lip and oil matting the fur on her fingers, she'd jokingly stated that maybe it could be their tradition to go every Wednesday night to the Ram.

It _had_ been a joke.

Two months later they still found themselves at their table with two beers and a plate of okra.

"Oh gosh!" she flipped through something, a callander maybe (she'd always been more organized than anyone he'd ever met). "It is! I didn't even realize- all the work- Do you think our tables still there?"

"We're the only two who ever save it. It'll be there." He checked the clock. It was only 8:30. They could make it. "I'll pick you up, okay?"

"Yeah! I need to get out anyway. Landlord shut off my heat again."

"He did what!"

"Leave it, Nick. Let me just change. I'll meet you outside."

And that had been that. They had other fights, some less explosive, others more, but in the end they always talked, reconciled, and for it they became stronger.

The obvious was that what they had was different. Weird. Unspeakable. Predator and prey… Then again, she'd become the first Rabbit Police Officer, and they lived in a city with a motto as cheesy as its name. _Anything is possible. You can become anything if you dream it_. He'd never once dreamt that he'd be friends with a rabbit.

It was entirely an accident. And really, he hadn't even realized it himself until a few months later. They'd just come out of a diner (she'd ordered carrot salad, he'd had a burger and she'd stolen ten of his fries) and had been laughing near maniacally about one thing or another when the large, blue truck had pulled up at a red light. The Zebra inside had done a double take, rolled down its window, shouted outside. A quip about watching who she was with, didn't she have any common sense, how could she go against her kind, _prey_ , to associate with _them_. Zootopia was an animal paradise, after all, but there was a limit to every Utopia that you had to stop at before you saw the cracks in the foundation.

When she'd deftly hooked her arm with his, giving the other animal a pointed look, there hadn't been anything holding the aggressor back from mumbling, loud enough for her to grasp, "That's why there's so many of you. Because you always make stupid choices." Her ears had lowered, proud grin dropping, and she'd nearly skidded away, instincts of prey never failing her in a situation where hiding was the best option.

Nick hadn't thought twice, though. Grabbing her hand in his own to keep her there, pressing her behind him, he'd turned on his heel. "Better watch it, Zebra," he'd snarled through a smooth smile. "Last I checked this wasn't your business."

"She's _prey_ ," the Zebra had snapped. "You're a _predator_. Its my business to look out for my own."

"Weird. I thought your own were Zebra's. Or maybe it was horses. Either way, you're a total ass."

The car had run the red light in its fury, leaving behind two giggling animals wiping away tears of mirth.

"You didn't have to say that," she'd told him as they'd walked down the street, passing by a flock of birds on break, splashing two and fro in a City provided bath. "He was a jerk. But-"

"But nothin, Judes," and he swung his arm around her shoulders, happy when she didn't pull away, and happier when he realized how fluid and easy touches had become. "He was acting like one, I pointed it out."

She nudged him playfully, her hip just reaching his knee. "My hero," she drawled. He just pulled her in tighter for a side hug.

"You can thank me later with a drink."

"And the truth comes out. I'm just your provider for all things in a bottle."

"You got me. Your job as my friend is revealed-"

He didn't realize he'd spat out the label until it was too late. She'd turned bright red, he'd stuttered on his next words. But it had all been over in an instant when she'd just nudged him again, laughing in mirth, and he'd reciprocated with his own. They hadn't needed much in what they had, but what they had was good. And whenever the word did slip (and it would, rarely, from time to time) they were happy to hear it. But even if they hadn't, they knew.

A fox and a rabbit.

It was odd. It was different.

But it was them.

They were inseparable, even if they both weren't aware of the fact. When other cops talked about Nick they talked about Judy. And when they talked about Judy, they talked about Nick. He was her first choice, she was his first phone call. He knew her parents first names and she knew his past. Things worked out in odd ways and they fell into them and straightened them out with flawed logic that seemed to make sense to them alone.

And Nick, despite every flaw the friendship had, wouldn't have changed it for the world.

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"Nick?" His ears swiveled, perked, blinking a few times in the late afternoon sun. Judy stood there in front of him, a bag of donuts in one hand, coffee balanced on a tray in the other. She was panting, out of breath, but her smile was full and wide. "Hey! There you are! I couldn't find you at the precinct-"

"Yeah, sorry, Whiskers. The Chief didn't want me in today." The old Ox and him still had issues after the big case. His defense of the thorn in his side hadn't settled well with the controlling Chief, and the Chief's previous disdain of the Rabbit hadn't been forgotten by Nick. Staying away was his only option, really, if he wanted to keep his head on his shoulders and his big mouth shut. Especially when the bigger animal was in a mood. He was called in when necessary, and the only thing that kept him from being on the hit list of the Leader of her team was the fact that she defended him tooth and nail as her partner.

He was grateful… to a point. There was nothing scarier, or more satisfying, than pissing off Bogo.

But on bad days he'd rather just avoid luck and stay out of his way.

"Oh, okay! I just wanted to make sure to give you these!" She wiggled the bag in her hand. "Clawhauser didn't want them all, and you didn't eat today. Don't argue. I _know_ you didn't."

"Observative, aren't you?"

She pushed it against his chest before he could say anything else, passing him the coffee next. The smell of old sugar and new coffee was a generous combination, and he found himself smiling despite himself.

"Thanks, Judes." Opening the bag, rifling through. There were some things that had to said about having a fellow predator like donuts. For one, as he pulled out a brown circle covered in sprinkles, there was a good chance of having one bacon one stuck in the pile. Meat was meat, even if it was doused in confectioners sugar. He took a bite, his hand charging back into the bag to snag at the orange one he'd seen, passing it to her. "Fer you," he said through a spray of crumbs.

"I'm-"

He swallowed. "You didn't eat either."

"How did you-"

"You get snippy when you're hungry."

She gave him a look that suggested she also got _murderous_ when she got hungry, but took the carrot donut anyway. "Gee, thanks."

"No problem."

They found a bench and sat together in perfect silence, watching the boats go by, listening to the gentle hiss of waves, smelling the backwash of pollution and old seaweed. At one point he put his arm around the wooden back, claws dangling just over his shoulder and she leaned into the elbow.

The world was odd, Nick couldn't help but think. It was all about perspective, really. He'd been so good at controlling his environment, pushing away everyone because that was just what he'd needed. But life really wasn't to be controlled. With or without him it would go on as planned. He was a cog and it was a machine and that was it. All he could control was what happened around him. His own little world had been ignored for so long for something larger that hadn't been there at all.

And he hadn't seen that until Judy when she'd barged into his life with a parking ticket and a stern glare.

"You have your car here, don't you?" She looked over, he followed her gaze to the red convertible parked by the edge of a boat garage.

"Yeah."

"Great." She finished her coffee and he handed her his empty cup. "You're driving me back home."

His keys were in his hand before she could finish her sentence, and he was following her down the docks, strides short and comfortable. "Whatever you say, Whiskers."

She sat on the passenger side and chose the music. He drove over the speed limit and teased her about being a stickler for rules. The newest Gazelle song blaring from the open roof, the sound of laughter ribboning through the notes, they drove into the setting sun through a world of black and white, but all Nick could see anymore was grey.

His outlook was still the same, to an extent.

He was still Nick Wilde, con artist, Zootopian resident of six years. He was still a Fox. His favorite color was still green (though he had a fondness for purple that had suddenly appeared), his favorite tie was blue (though once she'd complimented him on a yellow one that he'd started wearing much more) and he still played blackjack and lost some and won more (always by cheating).

He was still tall enough, still strong enough, still cocky enough and still smart enough.

But now, more that that all, he was Nick Wilde, friend of Judy Hopps. He wasn't just getting by anymore. Not with her. Not _for_ her.

His perspective might have been hard to change. But, taking the third u-turn just to keep her in the car longer, he realized that there wasn't a day that went by that he wasn't happy to at least try.

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 **I have about seven more of these partially written.**

 **I'm gonna have a _field day_ with this movie, I can already tell.**

 **Predator prey friendships? Hurt comfort? _Height differences, going against societal norms, the potential of familial love and support?_**

 ** _SIGN ME THE FUCK UP!_**

 **Reviews help me write! So click that little button below! And don't forget to write your own! This fandom's already growing and I'd love to see all my lovely readers beginning to add their own amazing contributions!**

 **Next up:**

 **1\. Ten things one thing (predator prey addition!)**

 **2\. We learn more about this awful landlord. Nick throws a punch and gets beat up (moron).**

 **3\. Judy gets shot while on duty.**

 **4\. Buried alive (smaller creatures go in first)**

 **5\. The Progression of the Cell Phone Screen**

 **Don't know which'll come first or last, but tell me what _you'd_ like to see! **


	2. The Evolution of the Predators Phone

**So a guest commented on my last chapter and said that the best thing to do would be to write a story about the changes in phone screen's. As you can tell, I more than agreed. It's a far cry from my heaviest fic (those are coming, kids. So get ready for some major hurt/comfort!) but it's a perfect way to really talk about Nick and his progression.**

 **And as you know, I _love_ that stuff.**

 **Next fic might be as calm and muted as this one as well. Suggestions are, as always, welcome (though I can't promise they'll all be done) and I'd love to hear from you all about what you'd like to see! Remember- I can do basically anything _except_ for Romance in this fic. **

**To those hoping for a Nick x Judy fic, turn thee round to other places. This is strictly platonic, and it's gonna stay that way. If you want romance there's a _lovely_ collection of fics already scattered about that ****can sate all your needs!  
**

 **So here it is- Nick's changes in phones and the screens on those phones.**

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 _Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art... It has no survival value; rather it is one of those things which give value to survival._

~C.S. Lewis

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Nick got his first cell phone when he turned fifteen and business deals became considerably harder when carrier pigeons vied for their own rights and began to unionize against him.

"How'm I supposed to do anything without you guys?" the young Fox, still barely growing into his coarse pelt, complained, eyes wide and bemused. As far as he knew he was the only way the small flock was getting their payday. "And what'r you s'possed ta do without me!"

"You pay us in _seeds_ ," the leader pigeon, a small grey thing by the name of Anthony Plume, scowled, the rest of the small congregation behind murmuring their agreement. "Besides, you'll do _fine_ without us."

"I need to get messages out!" the younger shot back, folding small arms over a shirt that was far too large for his lanky body (truth be told he looked more like a scarlet beanpole that had traveled to Hawaii and had only had the common sense to bring back an ugly shirt. Or so a few people had told him). "You're the only way I can do that!"

"There's more ways, Wilde." The bird spat out his name like it was a curse, tutting back and forth across the overturned crate he'd used to deliver his speech on freedom and the press and such and such. They'd met in an alleyway by the Fox's home- a shabby place that smelled like old chinese food and damp socks. But it was one of the only places in the city that had access to some of the major pawn shops and connected itself securely in an intersection of two main streets that lead to and from the highway, bringing in new, valuable and _naive_ customers. Without communication, ways of going down both at once, he was done for.

"I _need_ you," he said again, almost ready to drop down on his knees into the filthy puddles of sewage and fast food containers. "You're my only way to make anything in this stupid city!"

But there wasn't any convincing the birds. "Why don't you just get a cellphone." Anthony told him, shuffling the rest of his flock off. "It'll do you some good to rely on yourself for once."

And then they were gone- off to change the world of avian rights, no doubt.

Wilde, at first, hadn't known quite what to do. But in the end it all came down to the fact that the bird had been right. He had to learn to depend on himself and no one else. So Wilde, at the fresh faced age of fifteen and three quarters, waltzed into the nearest T-Mammel on 3rd Street and Trunk Drive and bought his first cell phone. It was a flip phone the size of his paw and had a preselected set of screens.

There was a park, a famous painting and an Island Paradise. He chose the Island. It looked most like what he was going to buy with his millions when he made it big.

The phone also came with a selection of seven ringtones. Three were various animal sounds that were almost too ironic to use, one was a popular song that had been on the radio too much to manage, two were zen (wind chimes and ocean breezes), and the last one was a simple office tone. He went with the latter at first to sound professional. When it was told to him that _scams_ weren't professional in any sense of the word he switched to the windchimes. They amused him, if he could even use that word.

They did _not_ amuse the people he did deals with.

"The hell is that?" He'd been selling something or other that had been picked up in one of the pawn shops and refurbished as _new_ to a Rhino with a bad temper when his phone had gone off.

"Nothing," Wilde had just waved him off. "Ignore it."

 _Ting-ling-ling-ling_ the windchimes chirped.

" _I hate it_." The Rhino snarled. "Pick it up or the deals off."

"It's just a cell phone," Wilde snorted. "You can't judge a deal by my ringtone."

 _Ting-ling-ling-ling_ the windchimes agreed.

" _Look kid. I ain't in the mood to be told what I should or shouldn't like_."

"What? Is the big bad Rhino afraid of a little wind chime?"

 _Ting-ling-ling-ling_ the windchimes admonished.

Needless to say, the deal was off. And before the hulking mass of a patron had left he'd decided to also show Nick just what he thought of his cell phone and its ting-ling-ling-ing. The Fox wrinkled his nose, pinching the dirt covered device between two of his fingers, delicately excavated from the bottom of a rather murky looking mud puddle. The wires were sticking every which way, blues and reds and yellows cheerily sparking. The windchime gave one last _ting-ling-looooooonnnnnnggg_ before fizzing for the last time.

The Island Paradise went dark.

Wilde tried his best to fix it. But he'd never really been tech savvy, and so he laid his first phone to rest on a Thursday in the middle of the afternoon, throwing it into a dumpster in the back of a Russian cafe that made fantastic borche. With his hands in his pockets and a scowl on his face, he wandered off to look for a way to make money to find his next device.

* * *

His third phone had been bought with the winnings of a cheated hand of Blackjack and a bunch of luck in a craps game. He'd been the proud owner of something he'd stolen from a woman's purse until that had fallen into the sink in the back of a dingy gas station and so an upgrade had been needed. The casino cut him off at a $400 limit and kicked him out the door when he'd made $427 (the last $27 had been made at slots that he'd rigged with the help of a very puckish Rat). He got himself a tiny thing with enough buttons to text quickly, a calculator, sixteen ringtones (he deleted windchimes) and a set of wallpapers that were far more satisfactory to his life goals.

There were twelve choices in total. Most were professional photographs of generic scenes with flowers and butterflies and mountains and smoky rivers. The one he ended up choosing was a pirates chest. It fit him best, seeing as one day he'd be rich enough to have a room just to hold his many cases overflowing with gold and silver coins.

He'd lose it in a bet with a Ferret.

"I want the phone too," the wily creature had said, pointing one brown and ill-managed nail at the device that had been sitting casually at Nick's elbow. Their cards were spread in front of both of them like fans for ladies in court, but their intentions were anything but pious.

"No," Nick growled. "No way."

"Then I fold," he leaned forward, eyeing the already growing pile of crumpled bills, still working hotel key cards and a knockoff watch. "And rules being rules, I'll just take my winnings and-"

"Fine." The phone was pushed into the center. "But it's that or nothing. And you'd better have one hell of a thing to put against it."

"Naturally!" He added a gold chain with a happy grin, waving it in front of Nick's face. The Fox just looked at it with the eye of a trained dealer. It was fake. Years of experience with false and faux had taught him well enough. The thing was just a combination of badly formed copper ringlets washed over in metallic paint. But it was something, and if he pitched it with finesse to some of the less trained pawn brokers in the city he could get an easy hundred or two.

"All or none," he said, shuffling the deck.

"All or none," the Ferret agreed.

It would turn out, after he was out $174.55, one watch and a his precious phone, that the Ferret had been cheating. Then again, so had Nick, so there was no reason to get mad. He was a _pot_. His adversary had been a _kettle_. It was useless.

The next day he canceled his plan and got a new one. When it went through he picked up his new phone. It was an old flip, and Nick liked the nostalgia for exactly ten days before he got tired of boring, generic wallpaper and was back in the store with a fresh pressed Hawaiian shirt (the green one that made his eyes pop) and his best red and yellow tie (the one that matched his fur) and put whatever moves he'd picked up in bars on the lonely worker that was there, a small, timid lamb who hadn't seen it coming. Prey were easy target, really. _H_ _is_ prey ( _always go for what we used to hunt,_ his grandfather had told him. _Sheep. Birds. Rabbits._ Especially _Rabbits._ ). And before long he'd secured himself a gold star of a plan for a fraction of the price and a set of wallpapers that would make even the most sneaky of Ferret's jealous.

He chose a red convertible. His dream car. It seemed like a reasonable (though _minuscule_ ) goal for a budding entrepreneur on his way to taking over the world's financial industry.

It would break after two years, but it had had a good run.

* * *

When Wilde turned nineteen, pagers were all the rage. He had one for seventeen days, four hours, six minutes and eleven seconds before he threw it out, damning the thing to hell in a hand basket. What was the use of it anyway? It had no ringtone, no style and, most importantly, no wall paper. How was he meant to display his dreams on a small 2x4 screen if he didn't have the screen it was meant to be displayed on in the first place.

He'd fortunately brought it back early enough to trade.

"Not satisfied, sir?" the female Giraffe had taken it back with a knowing grin.

"They're everywhere," he said, his excuse feeble but true.

"Yeah," she sighed. "We've gotten a lot of returns lately. People think these are cool or something like that. I think it's because they were on a show. One of those drama romance things or whatever. They don't get that they're mostly for doctors and lawyers and things like that." She packed it back in its box, slipping it beneath the deep red counter that stood between them. Going through a selection in an old three ring binder she tapped her hoof twice on what she'd been looking for. "I can give you an exact trade, if you'd like. You won't have to pay anymore than you already did. It's not the newest model but-"

"I'll take it."

His fifth phone could slide two ways, one to show a keyboard, another to give him the full screen. There were twenty five ringtones and sixty seven wallpapers. He chose a Victorian mansion looking over Sahara Square backed by a golden sunset. It made the most sense, as one day he'd have that exact mansion on that exact hill and enough money to buy the sun so it'd be stuck in the same glorious sunset for as long as he desired.

On March 7th a news report was released on Fur 5 about a line of technology released by a miser of a Tiger named Edmund Namurr, the CEO of Namurr & Namurr Inc and Nick's personal hero for seven years running (his embezzlement scandal of 1994 still held a special place in the Fox's heart). Apparently no safety had been placed inside of his devices, and the absence of flame retardant material had quickly ended in most of his devices bursting into small fires while being charged.

Nick's was one of those devices.

Suffice to say, while he watched the mansion bend and twist and then turn black around the melting plastic and sparking paint, Namurr was moved to the number seven spot on Nick's idol list. Conning was one thing, but he was not going to be outfoxed by some bigwig cutting corners.

He was out of inspiration and a phone.

* * *

The Fox would go through several other models and makes. Every screen would display a passion. None of these would come true, but it didn't stop him from trying.

* * *

Nick's twelfth phone had been a present to himself for his 30th birthday. A sad and lonely day. He had bought a six pack of sour beer, ordered cheap pizza covered in sausage and bacon and wrapped the single box for himself in the bag that the food had come in. His cake had been a stack of pancakes with an unlit candle pushed through the top.

He had no Island Paradise. There wasn't a house or a room just for gold coins. He didn't own a mansion or travel the world. There was no bombshell on his arm (though he did have a few numbers stored away that he was proud of) and the Universe didn't know who he was.

He was a Predator of no real prowess or importance. Just a Fox with a scam.

So as soon as he got his phone he unlocked it, turned on his camera and took a picture of himself. Looking at it, dissatisfied with the gap in his fangs, the angle of light, he took another. And another. And another. When there were enough there to fill a small hard drive he picked his favorite and deleted the rest. That would become his new wallpaper. Himself. Because if he was to be of no importance to anyone yet, then at least he could be for himself.

"You really are an ass, aren't ya?" Finnick, a newly found partner in schemes commented dryly, looking at Nick's phone with a wary eye. "Who even puts a picture of themselves as their background?"

"People that don't have any friends." Wilde sneered back.

Finnick found that answer suitable and never commented on the matter again.

* * *

Nick had become an expert at the selfie. He knew the right angle the sunlight had to be, the right smile, the twitch of his brow, eyes, the curve of his head. He was the master of all things vain and self indulging.

He also was very _particular_ with the things that he was vain and self indulging about.

Which was why the day he set up for his newest wallpaper -smile, pose, quirk, snap- and was interrupted by a _Rabbit_ he was _not_ pleased. What would people think, really, if he, Nick Wilde, a Fox, had shared the screen of his most intimate communication devices with a Predator. And not only was she a predator. She was a Type A, stubborn, holier than thou Bunny with a skewed idea of how the world worked. Like how she thought she could be a Police Officer. Or how she thought she could just invade his picture.

"Hey!" he snapped at her, when she leaned over his shoulder to smile cheerily into the eye of his lense. They were on the train to collect another piece of potential evidence. The lighting outside (sunny, brilliantly so) was perfect and the movement of the wheels against old tracks had finally evened out enough to get a steady shot. And then she was there, propping her head up on his shoulder, her long ears draping across his head, her smile bright and cheery and so _genuine_ it made him sick.

"What!" She pulled back, stunned and perhaps even a little insulted.

"You can't just _do_ that."

"Do what?"

"Get in on my photo's like that."

"Why not?"

"They're _mine_."

She sniffed, her tiny pink nose wiggling in antipathy, glaring at him with those intense violet eyes that seemed to follow his every move. Finally she turned away. "Fine," Judy said through a huff. "Take your stupid pictures."

"Thank you," he drawled, smile dripping with artificial sugar.

He didn't notice that she made sure to tilt her ear ever so slightly, just to make sure every picture was interrupted with a tiny triangle of grey fluff. Even if he didn't see, it was still a tiny victory for the Bunny next to him as Nick snapped away, choosing his favorite and setting it to his screen.

She didn't comment on it until the next day when his hands had been busy on the wheel of his car and he'd asked her, with tentative trust, to text a contact of his for information.

"You know," Judy told him, scrolling down the seemingly endless list, "you don't smile as much as this."

"What?" He looked at her for just a moment, the road pulling his eyes away.

"Your pictures." She gave the list another scroll. "You smile a _lot_ in them. You don't smile as much in real life. At least, you don't smile _for real_."

"What's that even supposed to mean, Whiskers?"

"It's _Judy_."

"Whatever." He waved her off, taking another turn, stopping at a red light, tapping his finger impatiently against the rounded, black edge of the steering wheel. "What does that even _mean_?"

"It doesn't mean anything." She shrugged, finally finding who she was looking for. "You just don't smile for real in your pictures. But you have a lot more of you smiling on your phone then you actually smile. That's all."

Before he could comment on the ridiculousness of it all she'd already started to talk to the shady figure on the other end, introducing herself as a ZPD officer and merrily going on about how helpful they were and grateful she and her newly christened partner were for their help. Nick just drove silently, listening to her prattle on, wondering endlessly if the smile lines he'd developed were worthy of their place beside his maw.

* * *

With seven hours left on the case, Nick took a moment to relax on the ride back. They'd picked up food from a greasy and cheap drive thru. He'd gotten something with meat on meat on meat and she, scrunching her nose at the smell of cooked animal, had dug into a container of fried roots.

After their hands were wiped clean and the mish mosh of cardboard was thrown away she'd thought she'd seen a map in a kiosk on the corner that could have helped them navigate their way better. To help with the time, he'd pulled out his phone, waiting for her to return, and started up his camera.

By the time the flash had erupted, she was already there, by his side, her arm hooked around his neck.

"What was that for?" he asked, rubbing at the shoulder she'd leaned on. For her lithe weight, the small thing had one hell of a sharp body, made up of points and jabs and edges. She was more of a mystery of geometric kind then a fluffy Bunny.

She just shrugged, unfolding the large picture of the city across the dashboard. "Revenge?"

He checked the picture, rolled his eyes and sighed. "Well, if you're gonna get back at me can you at least do it on my good side?"

He took three more pictures of them pressed side by side, finally settling on one where they'd held up the phone together.

"You know," she mumbled over the criss crossed lines and exit signs scattered haphazardly in between wrinkles and greasy thumbprints, "you could just delete it."

"What?"

"You haven't deleted it," she commented numbly. "I get it, you know. Not wanting to have my kind on your phone…"

Nick tilted his head, ears flopping to the side. "Your-"

" _Prey_."

He didn't reply, deciding that silence, for once, was as golden as they claimed it to be. She was right, of course. His family, all of them Foxes, would have rebuked the presence of such a creature there and his friends, if he could even call the meager collection of Carnivores he'd done deals with over the years that, would have most likely gone on a rampage and done their best to smear his already filthy name through the mud.

Zootopia was a place where animals of all genus, phylum, species, got along and lived side by side. It was _not_ a place where they found those of another step on the food chain cheek to cheek with their prey in their photo album.

So it was even a surprise to him when he clicked on the least awful one that they had together and set it as his wallpaper.

His excuse was that it was the best he'd looked in ages.

He wouldn't reason that his smile looked the most real it had in ages.

* * *

During the case, Nick had cracked his phone three times. The poor thing, suffering too much abuse, had rebelled against him and the face mirroring back, smiling up from pixelated happiness, faded out into a collage of spots and colors and spiderweb leaks of light. So the moment that it was all over he grudgingly traded it in for an older model (all that he could afford) and slapped it into his new case.

The phone had an app for making his own ringtone and a decent enough camera. He started it up, found the angle of light, rose the device up to begin a smile…

… and then he stopped…

For two hours he sat on a park bench in front of a large fountain, listening to screaming children and sirens and a bubbling chatter of the streets around him, and looked through the pre-programmed pictures. There were piles of money, pirate chests, mansions and worlds.

He chose a blue sky.

* * *

The case was over, and it was time to say goodbye.

Judy had already been congratulated by over half of the police force, and her head had spun enough from remembering names and ranks and numbers. The small bread drawer in her pull away kitchen was now stuffed with business cards (the bagels sulking atop having been unjustly relocated) and she'd already received enough emails from Chief's across the country requesting she move to their cities for twice the pay and prestige.

"You could, if you wanted to," Chief Bogo had told her after escorting her into his office the day before. "I would understand if you did."

"Their treatment of me would have been the same had I been there first, sir" Judy protested easily, making sure to take all precautions to avoid an accusatory tone. "You gave me a chance. They wouldn't have. If you're okay with it, I'd like to stay here."

Bogo had smiled, or gave her something close to a smile. They'd never like each other. Not really. Bogo and Judy had too many walls between them from the short time they'd been given to build, and there wasn't a strong enough hammer to break them down. She'd always remember his treatment of her and the way she'd been demoted for her place on a food chain. He'd always remember her renegade ways and sneer at her suck up, thick headed behavior that was sure to stick around. But _respect_ was all that was needed in a healthy and working environment like theirs, and they did, if anything, _respect_ one another.

"I admire you for your choice," Bogo said truthfully. "But I still extend the offer of switching. There isn't a raise for you here, and there won't be special treatment-"

"I'm not asking for it, sir."

He nodded stiffly, the muscles of his neck scraping the stiff edge of his collar. "Right. Then I applaud you for your stupidity. And your loyalty. We'll be sure to get you a partner before the end of the week."

Judy's ears had perked, her body going strait. "Actually, Sir, that was the one thing I wanted to talk to you about."

Bogo steepled his hooves, looking at her from over the long ridges of his snout. "No special treatment, Hopps," he warned, "remember?"

"No, of course, sir, I totally understand that. But I don't really need a new partner. You saw how I worked with Wilde-"

"The _Fox_." the Ox burst out. "How could I miss. You two- a Fox and a Rabbit."

" _We worked well together_ , Chief! We really did." He'd been her line of defense, the one standing beside her through thick and thin. And the animal was in dire need of a job. There was only so much longer he could go on swindling people in the city before he ran out of pockets to trick. "He's a great candidate. He knows the city, sir, and everything in it. And I believe that-"

"You worked _well enough_ , Hopps." his paw in the air cut the new detective off, and her mouth snapped shut with a sharp _pop_. "You're blinded by whatever kind of comradery you developed. And I commend you for trying. But you forget what kind of animal Wilde is."

"I know we got off to a rough start-"

"I think that you're under the impression that rough start is all you'll have." Judy's mouth snapped shut, sitting back in the old wooden chair, observing the officer before her with a kind of terrified reality. Bogo leaned forward, brows raising just enough to make a point. "He gives up things and gets new ones as fast as you can run, Hopps. That's what he's like. That rough start? That's him. That's what you're getting. There isn't some second layer that's hidden underneath. And I know you have some… _fascination_ with fixing people," she flinched. He ignored it. "but Wilde isn't a _project_. Too many people have worked on him. And I'm not going to let an officer in my precinct fall prey to that. We have too much work to do. I hate distractions." He leaned back again, turning down to go through a few papers on his desk, harrumphing at whatever he saw there. "That Fox has been in and out of here before. Trust me, Hopps." he told the papers, "He replaces his cell phone every few minutes. What makes you so special?"

"With all due respect, sir, I'm not a cell phone."

"You are to him," Bogo pointed out. "You're just another object to Wilde. You're disposable. He uses you when it's convenient, and then he turns you in for the next model." Her ears had stuck backward, drooped, her entire body suddenly a great deal heavier. Her superior didn't seem to take notice, though, closing the file and reaching for his coffee mug. "He's probably halfway done with his next scheme right now, and when he is we'll be sure to send you out to arrest him."

"But sir-"

"No, Hopps." He took a sip, grimaced, and then took another. "You need someone who can work well with Rabbits. By nature, Fox's can't. Wilde is gone. He left. He isn't coming back. It's time you made your peace with that. Find someone who can work well with you. Someone who won't be a danger to your kind."

 _My kind can manage themselves,_ she almost wanted to snap. But she bit the inside of her mouth and nodded instead. "Yes, sir."

So that day, walking to work, she wondered what kind of trouble she was in. With a bread box and an email filled with job opportunities and moping over the idea that a Fox had left her behind after all that they'd been through, it must have been a substantial amount of trouble.

The precinct was in the middle of a busy intersection, four blocks from the bus stop that she took too and fro on her commute. She'd left early that day so she could stop at a terrible coffee shop just a few steps away. It really was awful coffee- bitter and grainy, like every cup was the bottom of the pot and every pot was broken, but they had fantastic carrot pancakes, and she'd ordered a stack and stared at them until they went cold, watching the steam recede, taking sips of bad coffee and sulking.

It wasn't fair, really. It just wasn't.

She hadn't expected the special treatment. Not really. But she'd expected…

… she'd expected…

Perhaps it was just mover's remorse. Her mother had said something about that over the phone. Some sort of fake condition that made animals attach to others too quickly in order to instill a sense of home. It sounded like complete bull hockey, and was definitely something that her mother had made up just to make sense of it all, but as the hours passed it hadn't sounded all that unreasonable. Maybe that had been it after all. In a desperate effort to make friends she'd attached herself to the first person who was there. And that first person was a Fox… who happened to be a flight risk.

Sinking down into her booth, Judy let out a heavy sigh, staring forlornly at her stack of pancakes.

"Screw mover's remorse," she told the flapjacks. "No such thing…" And she knew, in her heart of hearts, that she was right. Maybe she was too trusting. But she'd made a friend. An honest to god friend. And she'd seen so much coming out of that… thing they'd had. Whatever the hell it was. A connection, a perfect pair, the partnership of all partnerships. It had been doomed from the start, really. Her father had been right. Bunnies had to watch out for Fox's. They were tricky, and in the end they'd just find a way to make you miserable.

She sighed again. Her stomach growled but she knew eating wasn't going to happen. Her hand raised, ready to call over the waiter to get the check and a to-go container-

 _ **FLASH**_

She yelped, nearly falling off the booth, but a longer arm caught her, tugging her to the side of a larger animal. The familiar and smell of cologne (something woodsy and dark and cheap) and shampoo (like clean laundry and chemicals) filled her nose, followed by an overwhelming amount of red. For a moment she didn't know what or who was attacking her, and her hand reached down for her taser, ready to take care of what she needed to if need be-

\- In the end, though, it was a ugly tie that gave them away.

"Nick!"

"Hey there, Judes!" She gaped, mouth opening and closing until she very much resembled a shocked trout. "Oh don't act so surprised, you told me this was your favorite place. The pancakes are good, right? You said they were." He raised his hand, a waitress seeing him from across the way already taking out a pad and pen. "A plate of bacon and blueberry cakes, please and thank you, sweetheart." He turned back to Judy, and that huge smile was soon all that she saw. His hand lifted higher, and the second thing was the phone in his hand. "You're terrible at pictures, you know that?" Him, smiling like a loon. Her, shock and surprise.

She blinked. "Um…"

"C'mon. I need a good one. This is a new phone." There was the flash of a camera. That did the trick to wake her up. Judy shook her head, blinked three more times, and then promptly punched him in the arm. "Ow!" He dropped his phone on the table between two large mustard stains and rubbed his shirt sleeve where her fist had made its mark. "What was that for!"

She pointed at him, jabbing her finger at his face. "You _left_!"

"What?"

"I _vouched_ for you!" She leaned against the back of the booth, ducking under his arm to get as far away as she could. "And you left. The Chief told me that you were a lost cause yesterday."

"No offense, Whiskers, but I can see why he'd think that." He smiled again, as if the idea of being a threat to security was just a normal, everyday activity.

"But… but you _left_." she said again, as if saying it a million times over would make it somehow more true. "And the chief said I was like a phone, and then you weren't there and-"

"He said you were a _what_?"

She swatted the question away. "It doesn't matter. What matters is-"

"I didn't leave, Judy." That made her stop. Furrowing her brow she leaned back again, taking in his whole face, posture, tone. He didn't seem to be lying. In fact, he seemed almost desperate- arms extended, face tight and pleading. _Please believe me this time_ , the con artist was saying between every smudged line he'd drawn for her. _You're the only one who seems to._

She swallowed, fingers going to toy with the badge pinned to her pocket. "You… didn't?"

"Heck no! I just had to settle a few things after the case was all over. Plus," he held up his phone, wiggling it at her, "the screen was cracked. Oh, and look!" His hands fumbled with the object of her identification- a horrible red thing with grey stars that only he could seemingly pull off on a backdrop of green, Hawaiian mess. " _I got a new tie and everything._ "

"... oh…" a smile, albeit a small one, wriggled onto her face. "Chief said you bought a lot of phones."

"Wow. How much does this guy know about me?"

"You've got a _record_ , Wilde. Every purchase you make is cataloged."

"Wow," he said the word again, but that time it was far more impressed than she'd expected it to be. "Well, anyway, that's where I went. And then I went to your apartment this morning, but you were already gone."

"You were at my apartment?"

"Yeah. I wanted to drive you to work." He shrugged, but the way his teeth flashed out, eyes going bright, she could see the easy fear that he was doing his best to mask. "You… you said we were partners, right…? Well… figured my first day on the job should be… presentable…?"

 _You can say no,_ she heard. _You can say no and I'll leave and that'll be it. But please, please, please don't say no._

 _Of course I'll say yes_ , she wanted to scream back. _Do you realize how much I've missed you? How much it hurt to think I'd lost the only friend I'd made since I moved to this horrible city? Don't you realize that I trust you more than you trust yourself?_

Instead she just smiled, winding her arms around his middle, face pressed against his horrible new tie. She felt him stiffen beneath her grip, but just pressed tighter. Her ears tucked and bent under his chin. He chuffed, and the breath ruffled the downy hairs. "Wilde, you idiot…" Judy mumbled. When he wrapped his arms about her, tugging the Rabbit to him, she didn't hear what he said over his heartbeat and the harmonious twinkling of laughter.

And from that moment on, the shift between them happened once more. They were back. But there was no back to be had. The flow of whatever was between them fell naturally and painlessly into place and their conversation and actions were without practice or creed. Everything was as it should be because it felt as if it was meant to be that way from the beginning.

Wilde and Hopps. Friends and Partners.

He sat across from her with a stack of blueberry pancakes, taking obnoxious bites of bacon, she sat on the other end, laughing so hard tears sprang into her eyes at a joke he'd told a million times but was funnier each one. The table between them was covered with strawberry jam fingerprints and Nick nearly spat out his coffee despite every warning she gave that it was the worst in the city. He kicked her knees and told her to eat and she kicked him back and told him to mind his own business, but proceeded to devour three out of six of the orange circles.

They split the check. She left a tip (a few rumpled bills on top of their receipt) and then they walked out together.

"I have to say," she told him honestly, adjusting the badge on her shirt. "if ever there was a good present for sticking with the force, this is it."

"What? Bad coffee?"

"No, dufus." She pushed his arm, smiling like a goof. "You!"

"At last, someone notices my full potential." He paused, taking in her words. "And what do you mean sticking with the force. You were gonna quit?"

"No! No, no, no. I've just been getting a lot of… offers. That's all. To join other places."

"What's the catch?"

She scoffed. "None. Higher pay, better office space-"

"Oh." He scratched the back of his neck with his claws, leaving little indents in the fur. "So why didn't you accept it."

She shrugged, tugging at her blue vest. "I guess… I don't know…" another shrug. "They couldn't give me what I wanted."

"What you wanted…?"

She didn't say it, but he could guess from the harsh flush that suddenly coated most of her face. A smile, bright and real, encompassed his. Before she could do anything his arm was around her, paw secured over the side of her neck, and he was dragging her against his hip, ignoring her squeak of indignation. "C'mere!"

"Why!"

"Because I need a new wallpaper, that's why." His phone was in the air, his smile already practiced but far fuller than ever before. "And all this phone has are scenic mountain trails and majestic rivers."

"I _like_ scenic mountains."

"No you don't. Now smile." She did, chuckling through her teeth as the clicking sound went off more than a few times. Watching them both appear on the screen together, holding their happy faces while the crowds moved by. He turned the phone around, showing her what he'd gotten, his arm around her the entire time. Together they picked the best one (he was wearing a grin too large, she was laughing too loudly) and he cheerfully set it as his background. "I think this is my favorite one," he told her as they neared the precinct. "I've had a lot of pictures, but this one takes the cake."

Side by side, with his phone in his pocket and hope renewed between them, they strode towards the office.

Chief Bogo was more than surprised to see him there, and put up a heavy mental battle before giving Judy the blessing to keep him on ( _though one slip up and that's it, he's through, understand me Hopps?_ ), presenting the Fox with a badge of his own and a harsh glare that told him to watch his back.

At the end of the day Judy pulled Wilde close in front of the doors of the ZPD, snapping a picture of her own.

"What's that for?" he asked, watching her fingers burst furiously against the buttons on her screen.

"Wallpaper," she responded casually.

He was too happy to reply.

* * *

 **Please comment, follow, do whatever you need to to keep me fueled! Remember, the more things I get here, the faster I update (Well... sometimes... But I can dream...)**

 **The next ones that I have planned have been condensed into two catagories**

 **Fluffy**

 **1\. Nick punches Judy's landlord**

 **2\. Ten Times, One Time (or an assortment of numbers followed by one that goes against the previous message)**

 **3\. Donuts are a cops best friend. Unless your best friend is a Fox. With donuts.**

 **4\. Nick's sister (a character made in development and _not_ in the movie) drops by.**

 **Hurt/Comfort**

 **1\. Judy is shot on the job**

 **2\. Buried alive (Bogo sends the smallest animals in first to retrieve lost things... even if the ground isn't stable)**

 **3\. Judy is attacked on the job by a predator. She's fine. But there's things to think about.**

 **4\. Various ways Judy gets hurt**

 **5\. Nick get's hurt protecting Judy. Judy is _pissed_ at all the wrong people. **

**I have Judy getting hurt a lot. Not because I like the whole damsel/hero feminine/masculine complex. Oh hell no. But she's the one with the more dangerous job. And, let's face it, Nick really isn't that _present_ \- he's a consultant at best. Which puts her in more danger being the one with the badge. That's why.**

 **I'm not sure what'll come first, last or not at all, but for now know that I have ideas. They are here. They are in development. Might go slowly as I have other stories I need to start/update... but for now, let's just say that this is good.**

 **Have a great day, my lovelies! Don't forget to read and review. And write your own stories! I'd love to see more show up here, especially from talented people like you!**


	3. The Burrow Complex

**Okay, so here's how this is going to work.**

 **I read the Junior Novelisation. So I, your author, know what's going to go down. _But I am merciful_. I will include spoilers, but only _minor_ ones, and then after the movie is out I will unleash whatever I wish. Which is _fantastic_. Because I have about three new stories almost ready that are gonna either make someone cry or someone else grab the pitchforks. Unfortunately, I cannot break those out until after (which is truly a shame, as they are some of my most emotional yet and I'm proud of that fact…) and trust me when I say that once March 4th hits I will be _merciless_ when it comes to angst and hurt comfort.**

 **But until then you will all have to enjoy some fluff and small, itsy bitsy spoilers that I've crafted!**

 **AND NOW, BECAUSE SO MANY PEOPLE REQUESTED IT: A landlord is an ass and Nick is an idiot and Judy doesn't quite know how she fits into any of this.**

 **P.S. See below for next story ideas and a "sneak peek" at what's to come after the movie is released!**

* * *

o0o

 _His attentive treatment of her had nothing to do with the presumption that she was weak, and everything to do with the conviction that she was valuable._

~Angela N. Blount

o0o

* * *

"You're an _idiot_."

"Yeah I- _ow_! Not so _hard_!"

"This is your own fault. You're an _idiot_!"

"Can't you just call me a hero or som- _ah_!"

"No. I'm gonna call you an idiot because you _are_ an idiot."

"Okay, okay, I get it!" He winced again when she gave the cut next to his eye a particularly vicious swipe. The air smelled like rubbing alcohol and sweat and the cologne that he'd no doubt put on that morning, lingering and musky and sickly after being mixed with soot and whatever else had been on the floor. His tie was lying next to him, shredded past recognition, and his shirt had lost two buttons, skewed and messier than normal.

It had been a fright to see him at first. He'd knocked on her door a few times and had been met with a yelp of surprise, the rabbit on the other side of the stoop pulling him in, slamming the door behind them before locking it and threatening the entire city with a taste of her tranq gun.

 _Relax Judes_ , he'd told her, leaning against the wall, pathetically nursing a bruise that was no doubt forming under all of his fur. _It was just a few punches. I got some in, if that's any consolation_.

It hadn't been, and after she'd pushed him into her desk chair and had drowned a rag in antiseptic it had been easier and easier to lose any sympathies he might have had coming his way.

"I can't believe you," she growled under her breath. "My landlord is a _Lynx_ , Wilde. Did we _not_ go over that a hundred times."

"Felt like a million…" he muttered. She slapped the back of his head, brow furrowing. "Right. Sorry. Lynx. Yeah. Kind of got that."

"And you know that Lynx's aren't really… _friendly_ to foxes, right?"

He rubbed the back of his head where she'd added her own bruise, shifting in the old, wooden chair. "Yeah…" he seethed. "I don't think I missed the memo on that one."

The rag she was holding slapped the desk with a wet _slorp_ , her hands free to fall to her hips. "Then why would you go after him! You practically fell into this one! I can't believe-" rubbing at her face, growing into her paws. "Even I have the common sense not to stroll up to owls on bad days and you go right up to a Lynx and throw a punch!"

Nick looked like he wanted to jump out of the chair and launch into the defence but another look from the Rabbit before him had him sitting back, sulking. " _He_ threw the first punch," Wilde pointed out, demonstrating a swing with his good arm. "The guy wouldn't let up! All I was doing was having a… friendly chat-"

"Oh _bull_." Nick blinked, gaped.

"Um…" a swallow, his adams apple bobbing. "Judes?"

"Don't _Judes_ me! A _friendly_ chat! Really!" Arms waving about, she paced in front of him before stopping to waggle a finger. "You were going down there to talk about _me_! Weren't you!"

"Well…"

"Nick!"

His arms shot up, palms out in surrender. "Oh come on, Judy! The guy wasn't letting up on your rent and you _told_ me that it wasn't fair-"

"Yes," she reasoned through her teeth, "I did. I _confided_ in you that I thought the guy might have a… bias against me. But that doesn't mean I go down and punch him!"

It was true enough, of course. Her landlord had been less than happy to let one of his own prey take up residence in an apartment. And it showed. Ever since the last box had taken up space in the tiny 12x19 studio apartment things that were unexplained but very much obvious began occurring. Her room alone lost heat, and then it lost power. There would be a backup on the water, showers were freezing and on the worst of days alarms had been pulled when the man had _known_ she'd returned from the red-eye shift. Her phone line had been disconnected, her television had lost signal and her outlets had been removed.

Anything and everything that could had gone wrong, had. And after every incident she'd strolled down the stairs, knocked on the basement door and, through gritted teeth and mutilated pride, asked politely to have the problems looked over. And the natural predator to all things that hopped, would slyly reply that he'd never known and that he'd look into it… when there was time…

Sometimes that was a day later, sometimes it was a week.

But she wasn't a kit, and her parents had warned her on how to behave around those who still had instinct to see her in a baking pan, and so she didn't complain and waited, hoping one day he'd come to his senses before she broke.

Despite her will power, she'd broken first.

"It isn't _fair_!" she'd pounded her fists against the dash of Nick's car just a few nights before. It was a Thursday, the precinct had kept them both late doing file work, the practice tests for Wilde's exam had been brutal, and the biggest case, which Judy had had her eye on for _months_ was given to the newest detective, a Wolf, without a second thought. And after he'd offered to drive her back to her home, which was no doubt still _freezing_ after her heat had been disconnected _again_ , she'd finally lashed out. "I can't do anything to the guy! I have no proof, so I can't complain! And if I do it'll only get _worse_!" She'd pounded on the dash again, ignoring the way the Fox beside her flinched, his own fingers rubbing subconsciously on the steering wheel, as if to soothe his poor, abused baby. The car had purred, revving sadly in response.

"You know…" Nick had told her, "you could just get one of the other officers to do it. Hell, _I_ could do it! You know I'm being instated in a few months!" His blinker trilled as he took a left. They'd left uptown ten minutes ago and already the change of scenery was more than obvious. Flickering lights of 2 a.m. bars just starting up were near blinding and the smell of cheap vodka, vomit and fried food permeated the small back roads. A pop song flowed, following the streams of grey cigarette smoke from under doorways. "I'm sure he wouldn't be so high up on his pedestal if ya brought a Rhino or a Fox over."

"It'd just make it worse…" she sighed, leaning against the window. "I don't need my lights shut off again." She could see him look towards her in the reflection of the passenger window, brows stretched down in worry, ears flicking this way and that, thinking, fiddling with ideas.

"... If you ever need a place to crash…" he offered slowly, turning down another street that smelled like early brewed coffee and new whiskey, "... you _know_ that-"

"I know," she cut him off, turning just enough to smile shyly. He'd given her the offer before. His place wasn't huge, but it had a few more rooms than a studio. A tiny kitchen, a bedroom and a living room with a pullout couch that he'd told her she had open access to under muddled, shy breaths hidden beneath signature nonchalance. "And I would. But… you know…"

"No. I get it. It's not really an area for-"

"Prey."

"I was going to say _Rabbits_ ," he offered sourly.

"You can use that word, you know. I know what I am. To you, I mean." He didn't respond to that one, choosing to lean his arm out the window, ears lowering down. She let out a sigh. It was true though. Nick lived in an apartment complex that was a bit more friendly to the carnivorous type. Lions, tigers, bears, anything with canines and an appetite for the deli aisle lived in the vicinity. Of course there was the occasional bison and moose- any larger creature that could hold its own (though most battles were of the verbal variety) against another. Her kind, no matter what badge she slapped on her chest, wasn't remotely welcome.

And looking over again she could see the hurt there, just as much as the understanding. Nick got it. He did. He was working with prey. _His_ prey. But there was something else there too. Insult with no real place- an odd sense of protection and the hopelessness that he perhaps couldn't provide it. She'd never needed something like that. Nick though…

She sighed again, puffing out her cheeks and swallowing what pride was left in her that night. "If my lights get switched off… or the heat or something…" Red ears slowly rising, eyes moving from the road for just a moment to stare hopefully. She waved the expression away. "I have you on speed dial," was all she said. No promises. Nothing secure. But it was enough, and his old self came back in full force, sly smile tugging back blackened lips, incisors flashing into view.

"Course, Carrots," he goaded, "yer gonna have to pay for it."

"Aaaand there's the catch."

"I'm not some rich fox with a silver spoon in my mouth, yunno," one hand on the wheel he leaned back, tugging at his tie.

"I'm not giving you twenty bucks to sleep on a couch."

"Psh," flicking his wrist he turned onto her street. "Cooking me dinner'll do. And none of that roasted veggie stuff either." The wheels beneath them rolled to an unsteady stop, crunching over old beer cans and gravel, pulling next to the curb. The light from her building's small front door interrupted the cutting dark of alleyways and dimmed neon open signs that had long since been turned off for the night. From where they were, Nick could still hear the purr of a base hissing into the air out of the surrounding bars, the calls of rowdy animals following along. He didn't want to drop her off here, but he resisted saying otherwise. She'd _despise_ him if he suggested anything of the sort.

"I'm a Rabbit," she pointed out smoothly," vegetables are kinda our thing. And my dad sends me fresh shipments from the farm every week. I have to get rid of them somehow!"

"Nice try, Carrots, but I know for a fact that you can make blueberry pie." After a pause he added, "And I don't want anything store bought. You _know_ that I'll only take farm fresh."

"What is it with you and my parents blueberries."

"Say what you want about the Burrows, Carrots, but they have all the makings of quality pie."

"That isn't dinner."

"In the Wilde household, anything's dinner." He gave her a look and she rolled her eyes, but one nod told him enough. Tugging the car to the side of the road he leaned over, pushing the door open with a practiced hand. His fur brushed her arm, red filling her vision for just a moment along with something like cologne and leather and shampoo. If her father knew she'd been that close to a Fox, close enough to see every red fiber poking out from under his green shirt collar, he'd have had a fit… or an aneurysm… or both.

Cool wind from the open door woke her from the stupor and she thanked Wilde quietly, grabbing her bag before stepping out. Her hand steadied on the door, shutting it softly behind her. The night air was cool and smelled like sewage and weed. On the corner, far off, there were glowing red sparks of something rolled being inhaled.

"I still can't believe I'm on your speed dial," Nick leaned over the dash, teasing. Judy leaned forward, meeting him halfway and propping her forearms on the open window.

"You're gonna be my partner. Of course you're on speed dial."

"Uh uh. Not good enough. Admit it. I'm your _friend_!"

"Saying that you are or aren't isn't gonna do anything!" She rolled her eyes. "You're just looking for a reason to tease."

"You _liiiike_ me!" He sang, waggling his brows. "I'm your friend!"

"Whatever, Nick."

A toothy grin was her reply as he shifted the car into gear. "I'm serious, Hopps," he told her one last time. And from the way his leer had dropped in favor of steady, worried eyes, she could tell.

"I know, Nick." She waved her phone shyly. "Speed dial. Remember?"

He nodded. " _Anytime_."

"Anytime," she affirmed with a nod.

His car pulled away, the window rolling up after a call of " _only farm fresh!_ " She had waved him off when he drove away, and didn't go inside until the red car had turned the corner. That night she was met with lights and heat and everything had seemed as if it would have been _fine_. She had been in a good enough mood to not call out the people down the way for smoking marijuana, ignored her rowdy neighbors and made sure to eat a microwave dinner before she went to bed.

The last few months, despite all hiccup's, life was actually okay. She'd solved a case and saved the day. And sure, she was still on the bottom of Bogo's list as far as cops went (though he had an inkling of respect for her which was incredible to say the least). But Nick had been right. She'd made a friend. And suddenly that had made eating dinners for one and biased bosses not seem so awful after all.

Until the week after.

* * *

Winter had been holding off for some time, it would seem. The air had been tepid at best and the general concencus was that sweaters among animals were as good as it was going to get. And then, just like a sudden sweeping smack from Tundra Town, the season arrived.

Temperatures dropping to the twenties, ice on the steps outside, frost in the air, the landlord had "accidentally" switched off her hot water. She'd come in on that chilly Tuesday morning with bags under her eyes heavy enough to carry industrial luggage, a headache to rival all others and the start of a fever testing her brow. The Chief had done his best to send her home, but the previously token member of his squadron had stubbornly refused to bend to the inevitable.

So he'd had to stoop as well.

Bogo was as thick headed as his breed. And he wasn't one to give up and give in easily. When he'd gotten the application for a Rabbit officer he'd scoffed and tried his best to push it to the side. Unfortunately, test results being what they were, he had been forced by higher ups to accept with recommendations to use her _where his more useful officers were less needed_. So she'd been assigned parking duty.

And then she'd solved a major case, and he was left with national coverage and every other precinct in Zootopia and beyond either watching his next move or laughing piteously over his bad luck. Him. The Chief who had a Rabbit Officer. He was a joke and a fool, but she was one of his best and he'd have to use her somewhere or his changing reputation would be left behind.

Bogo hated change. But he'd finally supposed that perhaps keeping her on for menial tasks wouldn't be… too bad…

And then she'd optioned for a partner. And he, Chief Bogo, was left with a problem. Not only was his precinct the first to hire a rabbit, but should Nick Wilde pass his exams, he'd have been the first to have hired an active con man and a _Fox_.

From the way Judy had been coaching… it was seeming as if that reality was close to becoming true.

So he'd done his best to stay out of contact with the newest addition of his night terrors.

And then his best and only Bunny officer had come into his office on a blustery day looking like she'd fought through the gates of Hades just to get there, and he'd had no choice. It wasn't hard to look up his number, filed away under the W's of his less dangerous criminal files. Taking a breath, massaging his temples with the tips of his hooves, he'd needed a moment before dialing the number and listening to each, awful ring.

When there was no answer, he swallowed back pride and tried again.

The Fox had picked up after the second call with a lazy "S'Wilde."

"Mr. Wilde," the Chief's gravely voice did nothing to test the smaller animal on the other end who grunted in reply. "You know, it'd do you some good to have more _respect_ for the commanding officers of your city. An attitude like that will likely get you tazered."

"Been there, done that. And aren't you supposed to be calling me _Officer_ Wilde or something?"

Bogo gritted his teeth. "Your ceremony isn't for at _least_ four more months, Wilde. Do _not_ test your luck." A huff. "And, if all goes in my favor, you'll fail the written exam."

"Aw, Mon Capitan, don't you worry bout a thing!" There was the sound of crinkling and the Chief hated to imagine that he was reclining back on his couch. _Smug bastard_. "I _aced_ all exams when I went to school! I'm a _champ_."

"You cheated."

There was clucking on the other end. "No such thing for a con man. A few winks at the instructor here and there didn't _hurt_ , but all that knowledge was all me."

"Well then I hope that your physical exams are far more exhausting. I truly hope that you've been practicing crunches."

"I'm a Fox, Bogo! We're _born_ athletes." The _tsk_ of a soda can being popped open flooded the speakers followed by a hasty gulp. "Now! You gonna tell me what's up? Because I have places I gotta be. Not that I wouldn't _love_ to sit and chat about how much I can't wait to be a part of your squad, but-"

"It's Judy."

And that did it.

Bogo took out a sticky pad and wrote down **Officer Hopps** on it in red pen, pasting it to the back of a drawer. He'd have to remember that for later. It would seem as if not much got through the tough skin of the Fox who would be joining them soon. But without fail, whenever the name of the Bunny was brought up, the nerves that were hiding away so far behind sticks and stones jumped into action.

There was the sound of fumbling, as if the phone had almost been dropped and caught mid air, a rushed curse, and then, " _What's wrong_." The Chief's brow quirked. So _that_ was how to get a rise out of the careless creature. One mention of his partner and he was at attention without a stutter, his drawl stringing tight and sure, in serious danger of snapping. "Did you send her out without anyone! I'm supposed to be her partner! Does she not have a temporary!? _Why didn't you give her a temporary! What happened_. Who was it. A perp? _Chief, I swear, if you sent her out alone and she_ -"

"I wouldn't send her out alone, Mr. Wilde. I am not as thick headed as you'd have others believe. And she's fine. For the most part."

A sigh on the other end, bushy tail no doubt lowering. "Right…" the Fox sighed. "Okay… So then…"

"As you are quite aware, Ms. Hopps takes the _bus_ to work every morning. But today she came in quite ill and I rather believe that she's in no state to be traveling." He pushed the sticky notes to the side. "I would have gotten her to take a cab, but she seems hell bent on staying in her place. And from what I've gathered from your time here, the only one she listens to seems to be _you_."

Keys jingled and a heavy door opened with a complaining creak. "I'll pick her up in ten minutes."

"She's refusing to leave the-"

"I'll _drag_ her out in a hunting bag and tie her to my hood if I have to." The Chief snorted at the crude reference, but nodded all the same. The Fox had a dark sense of humor, to be sure. But he was serious enough, and that's what mattered in the end. .

"Thank you." There was a click. And that was all. Scrubbing his brow the Chief wondered vehemently how he'd stumbled upon such contemptuous animals in his life, and how the ones that seemed to stay there were somehow also the most damn _loyal_. With a shrug he leaned back in his desk chair, pulling out the reports he'd meant to look over, and donned reading glasses. Wilde would take care of Hopps, and for the moment he was free of his tiny, stubborn rabbit of a problem.

It was a mystery, really. But not one that Bogo, in all his years of detective work, was willing to solve. For whatever reason, the Achilles heel of the Predator was its designated long eared and fluffy tailed Prey. And if that was what kept said Prey out of his antlers, then he wasn't about to question it.

* * *

The Chief had been right when he'd said she refused.

As soon as he walked in Clawhauser was there, leaning over the desk with a donut in his paw. "Thank _goodness_ you're here! Our little buddy seems to be having one heck of a day!"

"Yeah," Nick shrugged off his coat, leaving it to hang over the crook of his arm. "I heard."

Clawhauser nodded, pushing a box of donuts away so he could lean over the desk further, elbows balancing against a collection of documents. "Came in looking like a hunting party was at her heels! Chief tried to get her home but you know how she is." A sympathetic smile followed a sad shrug. "She's been like this since day one. Refusing to listen and chuffing along. I tried to get her to stop, I really did!"

Wilde smiled back. "Don't worry about it. That's just her. My little, block headed partner." He looked around. "Where is she?"

"Oh, the Chief had her put into the evidence room. Thought he could keep her at least occupied and in one place until you got here. Last time I checked she was reorganizing the whole place."

Nick thanked the portly man, making his way through the building. He nodded hello to some of his future coworkers, who all nodded back, passed by three water coolers where a few of the Officers were busy mulling around, avoiding processing work, and made his way to the stairs that would lead him to The Dungeons.

Aptly named, The Dungeons were a series of long, confusing hallways made up of chain link fenced walls, creaking doors, dim, flickering lights from the 70's and stacks of boxes all wrapped up in a sprawling package of seemingly _endless_ continuation. And, for a few minutes, he did walk through, hands clasped behind his back, meandering along. He was sure that had he been another animal he would have been running about, shouting her name, wondering where in the world she was and how he would have found her in all the madness she had settled herself into. He wasn't another animal, though, and so he strolled about, casually casting his head this way and that. And after a few minutes of silent contemplation, his nose and eyes did all the work for him, and it was child's play to spot the tips of two grey ears poking out from above Evidence Files K-L.

"Hey there, Carrots." he made his way into the room, looking around at the dusty cabinets, the unwashed floors and the cobwebs that made up most of the ceiling. No wonder Bogo had had a fit earlier about the state of the place. He shifted along, avoiding a particularly large stain that might have been blood… or grape juice. "How's it goin'?"

The long ears stalled their bobbing, twisting and darting about, catching and analyzing sound. Then they began to rise up. A fuzzy face was quick to join them.

"Nick?" Ooh, yeah. She was sick, her voice the combination of a cheese grater and a train wreck. "What are you doing here?" She frowned, and then, after a short moment, her eyes popped. "Oh god! Was today your practice test? Jeez, I'm so _sorry_! You know, I've been so crazy here I totally forgot-"

"Relax, Judes." He made his way around the boxes, sitting down on the cleanest stack he could find that she'd labeled _237-245_. Looking at her without everything blocking his view he could see that her tiny body looked even smaller, hunched and shivery. Usually bright, alert eyes lacking, the violet gone dull. "It isn't until next week." Her shoulders lowered with a blustery sigh.

"Good." She rolled her joints where they'd begun to ache again, grabbing for another box. "So… what are you doing here, anyway?" A pause. "And if you are here on your day off then grab those files you're sitting on. I need to put those away next."

"Sure." He collected his seat, following her to a set of bins on the farthest wall, pressed innocently against dusty chains. "I'm actually here because your boss-"

" _Our_ boss."

" _Yours_ ," he pressed, "gave me a call."

"Really? Why? He had me doing cleaning work. He said this was a priority." She dropped another stack of files, a puff of dust blowing this way and that.

"I'm sure it is. But someone else can do it today. Because right now he wants me to take you home." He put his own files down, clapping his hands free of dirt. "So that's what I'm gonna do."

It didn't surprise him whatsoever when Judy, instead of pleading or agreeing or swooning into his arms, just rolled her violets towards the dusty ceiling and snorted. "Yeah. Sure, Wilde. Whatever you say."

"No. I'm serious." He padded along after her as she hobbled towards another stack. "You're sick. You're going _home_."

"I get you're serious," she said. "But that's really not going to change anything."

" _Judes_."

"No!" she turned, her paws on her hips, glaring a baggy-eyed glare. " _You_ have no jurisdiction here. At least not yet. So if I were you, I'd go back to your apartment, get back to studying and then in a few months, when you're carrying an actual _badge_ , you can drag me out. But until that moment have fun finding your way out of The Dungeons." And then, as if it was the end all and be all, she turned her back and struggled with another box.

He hadn't known her for what some would consider long. But for someone who had never held down an actual friend in their life, the time they'd spent together was _exponential_. And in that time he'd learned enough to expect that reaction. But even so, it wasn't as if he was used to receiving it. And part of him, a very _loud_ part of him, was yelling that he was better off just giving up then and leaving her there. Almost stuck his nose in the air and turned on his tail and told her that she could ruin her day if she wanted, and he had nothing to do with it.

But he didn't.

Because he also knew enough about her to know that there was always something else going on. And from watching her life unfold like the patterns in a perfect quilt, it didn't take much effort to guess.

So instead of leaving, he looked closer at her -tired, sick, sniffling and far too happy to be sitting in the warm, creepy basement- and tilted his head, flashing his best, _I-Know-Better-Than-You_ smile. "Hey, Carrots?"

"Hmm…" she puffed through another heavy box.

"What did your landlord do."

It was like watching a light switch burst after an electrical overload, all sparks and dread and deflation, her head whipping around, the box dropping out of her hand, a huge puff of smoky dust following along. Her mouth opening and closing, looking more and more like the knot in a very guilty tree than a sick Police Rabbit. "He…" she struggled through the words, stepping back from the still falling dust cloud. "He didn't-"

"Oh come _on_ , Jude. You don't think I know you well enough by now?"

"Nothing happ- I mean, it's just that he didn't-"

"You," he cut her off, stepping forward and pushing the box to the side with his foot, "are a _terrible_ liar."

The jig was up, and she knew it. Crossing her arms about her chest and looking away, he had to wonder if this was exactly what a successful interrogation was like. She only helped along his question when she muttered, "you're gonna be a really, cop, you know that?"

"Is that _sass_ I hear?"

She just shrugged dejectedly, making it a point not to look his way. Nck huffed, leaning down to put his hands on her shoulders, hoping she noticed the way his ears had flattened back against his head, the worry just as poignant as the anger. He got it. He did. She was worried about the consequences. That was what she was always going to be, and what she always had been, from the moment she was born to the second he had met her- a determined Bunny with a need to prove herself, a fear that she wasn't good enough and too much heart for her tiny chest to hold.

She hated the idea of someone taking control, hated the reality of hurting someone else and _despised_ the fact that there were things in the world she couldn't do.

It was like she had read his mind when Judy said "I can take care of myself…" in a voice that was as lost as it was hurt.

"I _know_ you can," he said, giving her shoulder a squeeze, smirking when the Rabbit pressed her sore muscles into the touch. "But you're _sick_."

"Am _not_."

"Are _too_."

She huffed something, finally managing to gain enough willpower to push his hand off. "I know you're trying to help. But I'm fine, Wilde. I don't need a _babysitter_."

"Oh _really_."

"Yes _really_. And you have no proof of anything and no way to stop me from worki-"

His claws had wound their way about her forearm, close enough to feel their deadly points push through the thin sleeves of her shirt, tugging her closer. The back of his hand slapped onto her forehead. He huffed. "You have a fever." Nick stated easily. "I'm calling you in sick."

"What! No! You can't-"

"The Police Handbook you had me read _extensively_ stated that if an officer has a fever or an illness that qualifies as _contagious_ they must be off the premises for _24_ hours."

"It does _not_ -"

"Section 36 subsection C. Don't test me. I know the answers like the back of my paw. All thanks to _you_ , I might add."

"Nick! You can't just-!"

"Too late." The papers were plucked from her grasp, tossed onto a random desk. The wolf sitting there snarled something, but Nick merely retorted with his own carnal growl. Judy stepped back, wary and determined all at once. "It's called a _hustle_ sweetheart. I can and I _will_ drag you out of here as long as I have the _right_ to. And the Police handbook says-"

"Oh _can_ _it_ , Nicholas. I'm _fine_ ," she pointed out again, tugging away weakly, looking very much like the Prey that she was. He just held on tighter, a Predator in every sense, frowning a determined sort of scowl. She'd always been a terrible liar, too many tells to count flashing across her face. The room was spinning, her feet were killing her and she wanted nothing more than to curl up under the covers and go to sleep. Still, he knew what was keeping her from simply accepting defeat on the side of a hot cup of tea. Work was work, and if she wanted to prove herself…

She shook her head, giving her arm another tug. "Nick…" Her teeth flashed, worrying her lip, looking at the piles of boxes around her. The evidence locker was suddenly too big, too dark, too _much_. " _Please_. You _know_ that Bogo sometimes just keeps me around as a token and… and if I don't-"

"You can prove yourself tomorrow." he promised, paws rubbing perfect circles against the stiff muscles down her arms. "You're the best I know. Honest. And a few days isn't going to change that. But for now you _deserve_ a break," reading her mind with an ease that both disturbed and soothed. He gave her arm another tug, gentler that time, knowing from the way her face was beginning to crumple that he had won. "C'mon, Hopps. Let's take you home."

"I don't-"

"You're _sick_ , Judy." She sucked in a breath at the unfamiliar sound of her full name, doing her best to ignore the tickle that followed. " _Please_. Just let me take you _home_."

And that was that. She sighed, but nodded. Together they pushed a few more of the boxes towards the wall, packaged up the case files that had been sitting in the open, and then, with a few more sighs and her eyes on the ground, she finally let him drag her out the door. Clawhauser looked more than wildly impressed that he'd managed to get her that far, wishing the poor woman a speedy recovery and a quick promise that should she need anything she could "always call! You have my number and everything!" Judy smiled back weakly, leaning into Nick's side as he slung an arm around her and finally - _finally_ \- maneuvered her outside.

* * *

The sun was too bright and the day was too cold, and she'd forgotten a good jacket. So he had just blasted the heat and let her drape his windbreaker across her shoulders as they drove. Maybe it was the warmth or perhaps it was the doting friendship, but whatever the reason, as they neared her neighborhood, something prompted her to spill every bean there was about what had been the cause of the whole debacle.

"I was getting sick anyway," Judy massaged the bridge of her nose, hoping it would do her headache some good, but all it seemed to do was make her face sore. "Not that I would have called out, naturally."

" _Naturally_."

"But it wouldn't have been this bad! It would have never gotten to this point at all if…"

" _If…_ "

She sunk further into her seat, her long ears drooping to the sides, her fingers going to pick absentmindedly at a string from her pants as she avoided his line of sight. "If I had any hot water and my apartment wasn't turning into the Tundra. But it is. So… there's that."

He'd been right when he'd called her out before. But he hadn't realized it had gotten that bad. Nick growled something under his breath, but Judy didn't have the moxy to laugh or shy away from the sound. She just reveled in the grateful heat of the car. "It's fine." she muttered, leaning on the window. "Really."

"You keep _saying_ that."

"Because it is."

"You're too nice," Nick snarled, anger hardly directed at her alone. "You know that, Hopps?"

"Mmhm…"

He was hesitant to let her leave once they'd gotten to her apartment. But that was the farthest that he could push her, and Nick knew it was the most he'd be able to accomplish that day. Hopps was many things, and stubborn was high on that list. It was a _miracle_ that he'd gotten her out of the precinct at all, and he'd be reliving that victory for years to come.

So instead of pushing father, he just popped the locks and twisted his fingers against the steering wheel until his knuckles went white through his fur.

"I'll see you later, Nick," she'd muttered, softly shutting the door. "Thank you… for the ride home. I know I was impossible to get out but… but I appreciate it." A flick at her ear where it had been lazing against her shoulder. "Really."

"S'no problem," he lied through his teeth. "Get some rest."

She'd smiled, thanked him again, and limped inside.

* * *

It wasn't Judy's fault by any means. But there was always the harrowing _what if_ that haunts all of the world. What if this, what if that, what if she'd merely waited another few moments, like she often did, to see him drive down the road. If she had stayed she might have kept him from doing something he'd later regret. But she hadn't. Her feet had been too sore and her ears hung like anvils down her neck and she'd needed, more than anything else, just to start the kettle and sleep.

And so she'd gone inside, completely unaware of the red car parking, the Fox inside, a look of determination steeling itself against usually blase features, stepping out and slamming the door. She would have seen him tug at his shirt, adjust his tie, rub the edge of his nose with his knuckles. She would have seen him storm forward through the doors towards the landlord's office, pounding his fist against the aged wood.

And had she stuck around, she would have seen the door open and the Lynx on the other side raise a humored brow at the smaller animal before him, two predators staring one another down.

"Yes?" The Lynx queried, shifting to lean against the doorframe. "Can I help you?"

"Yeah, you can. Nick Wilde, ZPD. Are you the landlord here?"

"Bill Escroc." He offered a name, but not his paw, crossing his arms around his chest. "I _am_ the landlord here, yeah. But… I don't see a _badge_ , _Officer Wilde_."

"I consult. That should be enough for you."

A single brow lifted against a spotted forehead. "Oh should it?"

"Yeah, _buddy_ , it should be."

Tilting his head, pointed ears following the full of gravity and flopping ever so slightly along for the ride, Bill Escroc did nothing more than unleash a heathen's smile. "I don't believe I've done anything _wrong_ , Mr. Wilde. Unless offering people a place to live for a fair price-"

Nick had to wonder if this was what being an Officer was like. And if it was, this was damn good practice. Drawing himself upward, reciting some sort of mantra that Judy had used over and over again in the past about defending those around him, he stood tall and did his best to keep his tone assertive and clear. "Offering _most_ a fair price isn't a crime." he pointed out, jamming his pointed finger towards the floor, hoping his power pose was doing its work against the taller creature before him. "But in cases of discrimination-"

" _Discrimination_!" Apparently nothing at worked when the Lynx choked back a cough, sharp teeth flashing with unfiltered amusement. "In what way!"

"Your resident Judy Hopps-"

"The _Rabbit_! Oh come _on_!" Whatever persona he'd been holding before decided that it was quite finished for the evening, making way for a sleazier figure, rearing forward to slap his knees in delight, one hand going to pat Wilde hard on the shoulder. "Oh come _on_ ," he said again with more vigor, hissing out a chortle. "That's not _discrimination_! That's the circle of life! Even _you_ know that. Isn't she on your food chain? What? Is she making complaints to the police now?"

"Sir…" He was doing his best to breathe through the words, trying not to snarl. _Keep it together_ , a voice chanted in his head. _You're going to have to be a professional about this. Keep it together!_ "Our work isn't really your business. What is your business is that you're discriminating against someone who's paying you for your business. Not to mention that you're _housing_ a Police Officer. And from the way that you're treating her-"

"Hold on." Escroc shook his head, and for the first time since the start of their discussions he looked genuinely confused. "She's a _cop_."

"A police officer. Yeah."

"I thought the Prey was just a _Meter Maid_!"

Wilde had to hold back another feral growl. "She's a _Police Officer_ ," he said again, hoping the repetition would work the way lullabies did, to soothe, simmer down and keep him from mauling the man before him. Food chain be damned, the animal _deserved_ it. "I'm sure she's told you once or twice-"

"Yeah, but I didn't think she was _serious_. I mean, come on!" A laugh, loud and obnoxious, followed. "She's a _Bunny_! What's she going to do! Wiggle her wittle nose at me?"

"No, but if she wants to, she can arrest you for _hate crimes_. And that's at _least_ a two year sentence, from the way you've been going at it."

 _Too far!_ The voice was at it again, waving its tiny arms in the air like batons. _You're going too far, Wilde! Pull back! Pull back while you still can!_ He promptly told that voice that it could suck an egg and instead stood taller. "In fact," he added, " _I_ could arrest you for it."

 _Hoo boy…_ he heard the voice sigh away. _Now you've done it_.

"What did you say?" There was less humor now through the strained grin on the Lynx's face. "I thought you were just _consulting_ , Fox-Boy."

He was in too deep, and he knew it. The door behind him was beginning to look like a great out, and his car was only a few steps out of that. He was faster, and ducking and slithering away was seeming better and better.

But…

He drew himself up with a breath. "I'll be an active officer soon enough. And I think we'd _both_ know that you'd hate to see me at your door in a few months with a perfect cause for arrest."

"You're _serious_ , aren't you?"

"You messed with the wrong Animal," Nick barked back. "One thing you _never_ do to an Officer is mess with their partner and-"

The pop of laughter was so unexpected that Wilde nearly jumped back, newly fluffed tail very close to tucking between his legs.

"A Fox and a Rabbit!" Another howl of joyous laughter interrupted him, Escroc moving to click his nails against the wall, doubled over in hysteria. " _She's_ your partner! You! A _Fox_! Teamed up with a _Rabbit_! You've got to be joking!"

His ears rose slowly, a foil to the way his brows sunk down. "Yeah…" Nick seethed, "real funny."

"A Fox and a _Rabbit_!"

"Can we get back onto the subject of you turning her heat back o-"

He was cut off by another laugh, incisors and canines fluttering into the view of the flickering halogens above. "Oh _man_ … Are the Police making _cutbacks_ or something?" Another fearsome chuckle. "What? Did she _send_ you here? Is that her game? Because you know, if she did, I can just make her life even _more_ miserable. You think heat is bad? Just wait until things start breaking."

"Sir, is that a _confession_?"

"Not at all! Besides, you can't do anything to me. I watch enough cop shows to know that if there isn't a _witness_ then I can do what I want." Nick was almost compelled to explain that Paw and Order wasn't really a _viable_ source of information dealing with the workings of their system, but he sucked back the words and, instead, smoothed down his ears with his claws. He'd done enough already. And if the only way out was by dropping the Police act, no matter _how_ mad that may have made Judy (though really, if she found out about this at all it would be a whole other story) then he'd do it.

Changed Animal or not, he was a con man by trade. And he _knew_ how to grovel.

"Look," he struggled to come up with the right way to phrase it, eyes flickering everywhere. "I… I get it. Okay? Having Prey in your building can't be… _easy_ …"

"Damn right it isn't." Escroc picked at his teeth with a claw.

"Yeah. Must be tough. But I mean _come on_. Predator to Predator. We live in Zootopia. It's supposed to be this, I don't know, _haven_ or something for _everyone_. She just needs a place to live. She doesn't bother you. Can't you just cut her a break?" He attempted a smile of his own, flashing a pair of twin fangs back at the Carnivore before him. "Do what I do. Grab a few racks of ribs from the store, buy some rawhide and a few chew toys and _move on_."

There was a moment, a very brief moment, where Nick thought that maybe his not so passionate speech might have gotten to the Lynx. It had worked before, though not for such noble reasons. And it seemed as if it was going to work again. But then; "She's got you whipped, huh?"

"What!?" Nick shook his head, tried to find the words that came next. "What do- _are you seri_ \- what's your _problem_!"

What did get a reaction from him was when the Landlord wiped at his eyes, smiling a leech of a grin down at the animal in front of him and leaned forward to grasp the Fox's shoulder in something that _must_ have been attempted consolidation. The paw was heavy and it burned through his shirt. "It's just… I get it man. It's tough for me, too."

He didn't even have the energy to shake him away, too muddled by the statement. "What do you…? _Too…_ "

"Yeah," nodding, wiping at his eyes again, he patted Wilde's back once more in a one sided comradery. "Rabbit's, right? Good for nothing more than the middle of your table."

If Judy had been there she would have seen Wilde reel back in shocked, true offence. Millions of retort went barraling through his mine (she's my partner, she's my friend, she's the one I have to protect, she protects me, how _dare_ you, how dare _you_ , _how dare you!_ ) She would have also heard the horribly rude and unspeakable, but very much justified, comment that had followed. And, fortunately for her, but not so much for her partner, she would have seen her landlords fist go flying.

To be fair, he didn't strike back until _after_ he'd been socked across the jaw. Claws unsheathed, a growl vibrating through him, he did his best to duck under another swing and got in a few good swipes before he was once more made into a glorified punching bag. It didn't go on for long, but when it was all said and done, he'd dragged his sorry self up the stairs with his tail between his legs and, with all pride gone, feebly knocked on her door.

It was better she heard from him then saw it the next day.

* * *

Nick Wilde now sat, battered and bruised, on Judy's desk chair while the sick, peeved rabbit chided him, turning his face this way and that to check over minor cuts and scrapes. "I can't believe you…" she said for the thousandth time. "Nick… You're better than this!"

"He wasn't treating you fairly, Judes." He finally took the rag from her, cleaning away at the scrape just at his shoulder. "It's my job as your _partner_ to defend and protect."

"You aren't my official Partner for a few more months! Remember! We literally _just_ had this discussion! You _cannot_ drag me out of precincts when I'm sick-"

"But I did…"

She gave his arm a punch and he sulked through the new pain, going back to tending his wounds… and his pride. "You _can't_. And even if you were- _will you stop doing that_!" She grabbed the rag back where he'd dug too deeply at a set of claw marks on his neck, blood trickling down and staining a circle about the first circle of his shirt. "It isn't. I'm a big Bunny, Wilde. I can take care of myself and I really don't need backup when it comes to these things!" She went back to dabbing at the open cut, tilting his head with a steady paw.

"Then…" he swallowed, clearing his throat. "Then it's my job as your… as your _friend_ …"

Judy stopped, swallowed, blinked back the burn of worry from behind her eyes. She shook her head to clear it away, wincing when she did. It still pounded, tiny pinpricks of pain arching across her spine and through all her muscles. Truly, the last thing she'd needed was _this_ to happen. The room was freezing. Even Nick, who's coat of fur was so much thicker than hers, had started succumbing to the cold, arching in on himself. She'd been hoping that maybe some bad television drama and hot tea would be a welcome distraction from it. But instead she got an injured fox and a pissed off landlord and a worry about how far he'd go just to keep her safe…

She sighed. "No… it isn't." She shook her head once, twice, three times, slowly, ears flopping back and forth against her spine. But this time when she contradicted she did it with a smile. "Not even as my friend. You're still not supposed to be my animal in shining armor."

"Judes…"

"I can't have you getting _hurt_ for me." She put down the rag, grabbing his paws in her own. "Nick I… I appreciate it. I do. But you have to understand how this works! You said it yourself, remember? You are what you are-"

"Yeah, but _you're_ Judy Hopps," he pointed out feebly. "And you can be anything."

"And while I _appreciate_ the sentiment, it still doesn't change some things." Her thumb moved back and forth across his palm in a soothing beat. "Nick… I'm _Prey_ … And as long as that's what I am, things are going to happen. You can't _change_ that. And I'd rather you didn't get hurt because of it." Her smile was small but light when she added, "your job is to drag my stubborn butt out of basements when I'm sick."

"And-"

"No." Her ears flopped when she shook her head. "Not to defend against landlords. Just basements and sick days. That's all."

He sighed, nodded, and looked away, feeling dejected and terrified all at once. It was an odd situation, feeling like he had to protect and serve. Just a year ago he wouldn't have given two Pawpsicles about what happened to Bunny's, and now he was sitting in front of one, holding her paw and hoping beyond all hopes that he hadn't screwed up her life any more. "You know…" he told the wall slowly, doing his best to look anywhere but at those huge violet eyes, "that isn't going to stop me."

"Yeah," she said back, humor slipping in through the stern lilt. "I'm here now, aren't I? Trust me. I _know_."

They sat in silence for another moment. Outside, sirens from an ambulance blared somewhere over the east border of her small district while in the west a police car screamed. Lights from passing cars lit up the walls. The room was cold, but still somehow stuffy, the greasy wallpaper around them almost too close for comfort. A bottle shattered on the sidewalk, people with slurs corrupting every vowel of their shouting diving into the beginnings of a sloppy fight.

Nick hadn't been to her room many times, but taking the chance to look around he did his best to find something redeeming in the badly lit space illuminating the sad pile of books by her bed, the peeling lacquer on the door and the dinner for one stashed on the bottom of her trash bin. Though, he supposed, the family pictures hanging on her wall and the others on her desk were… somewhat cheery.

His eyes fell on one in a new frame beneath a lamp, sitting on top of a pile of papers.

A picture of them on the day she'd finally convinced him to go to a museum. He'd hated it, as expected, but she'd had the time of her life dragging him room to room, hopping along and around sculptures and doing her best to keep him occupied. In the middle of the day, sitting in the overpriced cafeteria, he'd snapped a picture of the two of them. Her in her terrible and cheesy _If it's not baroque_ t-shirt, and him in the Monet tie she'd bought him that was even ugly for his standards. Despite the weird pictures, the boring atmosphere and the _awful_ tie, it had been a good day. A _great_ day.

 _That isn't going to stop me_ , he'd told her. And it had taken him just a moment to realize that not only had he meant it, but he was going to make sure of it with every fiber of his being.

He looked back at her, giving her paw a squeeze. "Hey, Judes? How does that pullout couch sound right about now?"

She squirmed, shrugged, looking as nervous as he'd felt just moment ago. "Um… I don't know? I mean… I don't want to intrude-"

"You know that's not possible."

"And… and it's already late and the landlord might turn my heat back on!"

"He won't. Next excuse."

She shifted on the balls of her feet. "... You live with a lot of Predators…"

"I do. Good memory. Anything else?"

Judy swallowed. Then finally she shook her head. "That's it," she said. "I'm out."

"Really? Is that all?"

"It's freezing and I'm sick," she said sourly. "My brain isn't working as quickly as it should be."

"Good point." He sidled off the chair, passing her to open up the small closet by the door. Pulling out her police duffel bag he threw it onto the the bed. "Pack up, Hopps. Anything you want to take for as long as you need. We're gonna have an extended sleepover."

It wasn't so much of a suggestion as an order, and apparently she seemed to understand. So with a nod and a shy smile she began to look through her drawers, pulling out her uniform, sweaters, shirts, pants, toiletries and anything else she might have needed. And when the bag was almost full, and she was adding a few more books onto the top of the pile, she looked back at him with an expectation of something that he couldn't quite place. "Are you sure…" she nibbled her lip. "Because I really don't want to barge in, you know?"

Nick just smiled through a tired, exasperated laugh. "I told you already. Anytime, Carrots."

"I really hope not."

" _Anytime_ ," he said again.

* * *

Her defeat was a sad and aware one that had her slipping farther and farther as her will to press on shriveled away. She was too tired to do anything by the time he pushed her out her front door, almost fell asleep on the car ride to his place, barely made it up the elevator and, by the time he had jammed his key into the lock, ushered her into the room, pulled out the couch bed, grabbed her sheets and passed her one of his old shirts to sleep in, she was already slipping awy, burying her face into the pillows.

"You're an idiot," he told her plainly, dragging the forgotten covers up over her shoulders, ignoring her downy-muffled complaints, "You know that?"

Her ears just twitched, finally going flopsy and sprawling out beside her. "I've heard," she slurred, lifting herself up enough to mumble, rubbing at tired eyes. "It's been said… once or twice…"

"Good. You deserve to hear that every day, you loser."

"Yer'loser."

"Yeah. Okay. Sure. I'm leaving you medicine on the table over here. Take it."

"Shuddup… loser…"

"Goodnight to you too." He gave her another look. "By the way, you look downright _adorable_ in that shirt."

He ducked out of the way when the pillow was thrown at his head, cackling out another call of goodnight before slinking away past the dingy kitchen and into the narrow hall. It had taken everything inside of him not to leave her there, go back and wrangle up a gang of cops to take the stupid Landlord out in cuffs. But he wasn't sure if he wanted to give Bogo another reason to have his head on the platter.

Instead he just brushed his fangs, stared at newly forming bruises and cuts in the mirror, did his best with antiseptic, donned his own t-shirt and a pair of boxers, and went to bed.

* * *

The next day he called her in sick, not daring to wake her up. The Chief was more than pleased to let her go for a day or two (most likely because she was equal parts his most stubborn and _present_ employee and everyone needed a break) and had wished fast recovery through a hard jaw.

"Keep her with you for as long as you need." He hadn't really been sure if Bogo was furious, happy or out to kill him. He always seemed to sound like there was a pile of rocks on his throat. But it was appreciated at the very least.

"Won't be a problem, sir." Wilde turned on the coffee machine, listening to the first few notes of bubbling singing through the kitchen. The light from outside was flooding through the dusty windows, and it made every piece of cheap, broken appliance glow. "She's not really going anywhere."

"Are you positive? I don't want to see her strolling in just because you turned your back for two seconds."

"Sir, with all due respect, I'm a _Fox_. It's basically in my genes to catch her. She's not going _anywhere_."

"I don't trust you. But fine."

Nick just snorted, abandoning the coffee for just a moment to walk across cold tiles and poke his head around the wall. The Rabbit was splayed out, drooling and snoring, face pressed into the pillows. Covers skewed across the creaking mattress, large feet kicking, nose twitching, she seemed happy enough in a place with light and heat and good company. The coffee maker gave an especially loud _whirrr_ and she snorted, turning over, one of her gigantic ears lolling over to cover her eyes..

"Trust me, sir," he whispered again. "She's not going _anywhere_."

* * *

She wouldn't wake up until a few hours later, groggy and cranky but grateful all the same. She did her best to slap lazily at him when he crooned _hello sleepyhead_ in his best obnoxious voice and grunted when he laughed. Though one look at his own bruised up face and a comment of _you look like hell_ won that argument without much effort. They must have reached a truce quick enough because of how fast she was willing to accept a cup of coffee and the promise of cheap Chinese food (he got beef lo mein and she hesitantly asked for vegetarian fried rice) with a cheerier grin than he'd seen on her in days.

It didn't take long for the two of them to fold up the bed, move the table and set up a nook for them to work in. His apartment was small, but it was comfortable enough, with big windows (though they were in need of a good clean), bookshelves (though most were lined with entrepreneurial magazines) and pictures on the walls (though most were framed classic action movie posters that Judy wouldn't tell him for some time she secretly loved). The steam of food unclogging her sinuses and laptops out and blaring in the overcast day streaming through cleaner-lined windows, they both were content enough in their own world that they, a Rabbit and a Fox, had created together.

"This one has low credit, good neighborhood, pretty cheap…" he scrolled down some more. "Looks like the landlord's an Antelope."

"What's the predator/prey ratio." She took a long sip of her coffee, humming into the caffeine.

"You _know_ I hate the word."

"You hate that word _now_." she pointed out fairly over her mug, smiling happily when his defeat contorted into a scowl. "Find one Bunny and all of a sudden you can't help but _hate_ the word _preda-_ "

" _Stop_." He turned back to his laptop. "It looks like the ratio of _carnivores_ and _herbivores_ is pretty equal-"

She just snorted again, going back to her computer. "Nice word choice."

"And it's close to a subway and the bus stop."

"Distance from work." She picked up a container and her fork, barely taking her eyes away from her own screen.

Clicking buttons he made a few thoughtful clicking noises in the back of his throat before giving, "two miles."

"Not bad." The words were punctuated by another mouthful of food in. "Save i' fer la'er." She said through the rice.

They went through apartments for enough time to at least decide on a few good choices. They were bookmarked, landlords were contacted and Nick made sure to call one of his people (no, Judy, I'm not telling you if this is legal or not, you'll have my tail for it) to talk about getting her lease back. By the time they were done it was almost night, they'd gone through two pots of his darkest roast and, leaning back against the couch, boredly flipping through channels with a Bunny lying against his side, he was fairly sure that the con man that still lived inside was kicking him over and over for doing something so genuine and nice.

And the odd thing was, he truly didn't care.

It was around the time that he'd skipped over the hundredth commercial about fur-de-tangler that she spoke. "So, you never did tell me what he said to piss you off."

"Huh?" He looked over from where he'd landed on some show about reality dog-housewives. They were shouting at one another, and someone flipped a table. Another one pulled on the others hair. "Wha'?" The hair was ripped strait out and someone else shouted a word that the television station found fit to be censored out.

"You never told me," she repeated. "What did he say anyway?"

He pressed mute when a string of those _beeps_ became too annoying, began flipping through again and wobbled his hand in the air, waving off the question. "Nothing."

"Seriously, Nick?"

"Look. It wasn't anything that you have to worry about, alright? He was just… being an-"

"-idiot."

"No. _You're_ an idiot. He's an ass."

"Right. Forgot. I'm the idiot."

"Yes." He tapped her on the head with his claw, smirking when she flinched away. "You are."

She swatted at his hand, making a quick dive for the remote, but he was faster, whisking it to his side, flipping through a few more channels. After it became clear that nothing was on he dropped the thing to his side, sighing into the room. "Listen... Judes... It really wasn't anything you weren't expecting. Just take everything you think you'd have heard. That's pretty much it."

Her ears dropped back. "That bad, huh?"

"I wouldn't have even _tried_ to punch him if it wasn't that bad."

"I thought he punched first."

"He did." Nick cocked his head against the pillows to cast her an ironic sort of grin. "But the reason why he punched... that was all me."

He got a smile in return, lazy and content. "Who's the idiot again?" Nick snorted, muttering something about dumb Bunnies. "You know," her paws went to fiddling with one another, picking at dull claws. "you handled it really well. For someone who's becoming a cop." Sitting back, she leaned his side, smiling. "You didn't throw the first punch, you were polite, you almost kept it together." He felt her shrug, her sharp shoulder pressing into his ribs. "I'd say that you did pretty well for a first time trial."

"Did I now?"

She nodded. "Yeah. You did." Giving his side a poke with her elbow, she watched him squirm before declaring, "You, Mr. Former Con Man, are gonna make a pretty neat cop."

He leaned forward beaming. "You think?"

"I _know_. You don't go around doing this for as long as I have without knowing what good cops are."

"You've been doing this for a _year_."

"Psh. Please. I've been a cop at heart since I was eight. You should've seen me." Her hands came together imitating fists. "Taking out the bad guys under my sisters bed, checking the closet for monsters in my brothers' room. I _ran_ that burrow."

"Sure you did."

"Are you doubting me!"

His hands flew up in surrender. "No! No, I believe you. I've been here long enough to know when to believe you!"

"That's what I thought!"

The two of them chuckled, and she could feel every twist and churn of lean, hunting muscle against her side when he did but was pleased when she found that she wasn't scared."You know..." she continued, voice dropping shyly. "It's more than that."

"Is it, now."

"Yeah. It is. You got me out of the Precinct, have me _loaded_ on meds right now-"

"You should probably take more, soon, actually."

She rolled her eyes, giving his arm a weak punch before going on. "You gave me a place to stay. Made sure I was in a safe environment. Stuck up for me when you didn't have to. Handled my stubborn self!"

"Is that what one needs to make a good cop."

"No. That's what you need to make a good _partner_."

His face dropped, and he was sure that if he could have flushed through all the red fur, he would have been an even brighter scarlet then he already was. She watched his throat bob with a swallow, his eyes go wide and stunned. Judy just smiled and moved to tuck her head under his chin. Felt him stiffen before relaxing, his arm draping around her shoulder a heavy and secure weight. If her parents saw her this close to a Fox…

A few months ago if someone had told her that she would be on the same couch, practically _wrapped around_ a Predator…But there she was, nestled against him, happier than she'd been in so long.

"Thank you, Wilde. really. If I don't say it enough, which I know that I don't. Thanks for dealing with the landlord. And letting me stay. And... and for everything. And I should say it more, I know, but you should at least know that I mean it when I say that you really are going to make the _best_ partner in the whole world." She laughed softly. "You were right when you said it yesterday. That's why you're on my speed dial. Because... because I like you. Because you're my friend."

Her sensitive ears were against his chest and she could hear the way it stuttered for the barest of moments, felt the way his mouth quirked, pulling at the skin, felt the brush of huffed, affectionate breath. He gave her shoulders a squeeze. "Yeah…" he rasped, clearing his throat. "Yeah. You're- you're gonna be good. Too."

Judy snorted, nudging at his chin again. "Thanks."

The television was still on mute, and all she could see were the images of some sort of documentary about the Dark Ages. A lion attacked a gazelle, a hippo's jaws snapped closed on something, a rabbit chased a fox. They'd forgotten to turn on the light, but the rotating pictures flickered back and forth, filling up the room with its own fuzzy luminescence. Everything smelled like his shampoo and Chinese food. There was heat, there was hot water and the old coffee in the pot was still waiting for them when they were ready.

As far as she was concerned, everything was _perfect_.

His voice cut through that perfection with a sneer. "I know we're having a moment and all and it's _really_ great, but can you do something for me?"

"Sure."

"Can you take your sick body off of mine and move away. I don't want your dumb bunny germs all over my best shirt."

" _Are you serious right now_!"

"I'm sorry, Carrots. You're gross. I'm not catching whatever you have."

"Oh my _god_! You're such a- _gah_!"

Nick just let out a guffaw, tugging her closer, running his knuckles over her scalp, ignoring her shrieks of laughter, goading her about being an idiot. She pushed him, he pushed her. And then he just grabbed her to him again and leaned back into the couch.

The next day she'd feel a hundred and ten percent better. And she'd walk into work with him at her side. And she'd say hello to her Chief and to her coworkers. And she'd sit in the bullpen and get another case handed to her and hope it wasn't just to deliver parking tickets. But until then the two of them, finally agreeing on an old black and white movie that he claimed to be a _classic_ , to which she replied by mercilessly teasing him about being old, sat side by side on the floor, backs pressed against the ratty couch, sides pressed against each other. At some point one of them dragged down a blanket. At another point someone draped it over the both of them. The television stayed on, the white noise of fuzzy frame by frame noir classics a perfect and lulling lullaby.

And if Nick meant to move at some point but didn't, then he must have just forgotten. And if Judy meant to say goodnight but didn't, then all the cough syrup must have been doing its work.

And if they did end up falling asleep right there, with his claws around her shoulder and her long ears brushing his chest, then they didn't really have to let anyone else know.

* * *

 **And then Judy moved and the landlord just went back to being an asshole and everyone lived semi-happily ever after!**

 **Hoorah?**

 **Alright! There we go! This turned out a _lot_ longer than I originally thought it would! But what are you gonna do? I've always been really bad when it came to length and nothing I do will make anything shorter. Which... I guess is a bonus for you guys, huh?**

 **ANYWHO!**

 **Here's what's going to be happening.**

 **The movie comes out on March 4th, which as of today is almost exactly one month away (just a few days, guys... omg!). And we're all really excited! I'm going to continue with these fanfictions in the mean time and, if everything works out, will most likely get out 1-2 per week, just like I've been doing now.**

 **BUT HERE'S WHAT'S GOING TO CHANGE!**

 **After the movie is released it's going to be _spoiler city_ up in here! Because, like I said at the top, I have SO MUCH FUCKING ANGST PLANNED AND I CAN'T WAIT TO RELEASE IT BUT I CANNOT BECAUSE THERE ARE TOO MANY SPOILERS!**

 **So here's a little... teaser?**

 **Things that will be coming out BEFORE the movie:**

 **1) Meet the parents! (some spoilers?)**

 **2) Predator attack**

 **3) Judy get's shot**

 **4) Valentines Day! (not what you would expect!)**

 **AND THING'S THAT WILL BE COMING OUT AFTER THE MOVIE!**

 **1) Press Conference Part 2**

 **2) Judy is Mauled. Things Don't look good.**

 **3) Fox-Repellent**

 **4) I love you's**

 **IF ANYONE HAS ANY SUGGESTIONS (requests) LEAVE THEM IN THE COMMENTS! I CANNOT PROMISE EVERYTHING BUT GODDAMMIT IF I WONT TRY MY DARNDEST!**

 **P.S**

 **A lot of you want to see Nick get hurt protecting Judy... Well... tell me how that would go? If you want to see that, request what sorts of things you'd want to see!**

 **That's it for now, lovelies! Have a great night and choose what you want to see next in the lives of Nick Wilde and Judy Hopps!**


	4. The Darwinian Donut

**Alright lovelies! Thank you so much for all of your wonderful comments and suggestions!**

 **As of today there are exactly _four weeks_ until the movie comes out, which means you'll get at least 4-6 more fanfics from me with _limited spoilers_! And then after that we're gonna get to the good stuff! **

**And by good stuff I mean I'm gonna deliver exactly what you want! Who wants to see people get shot, buried alive, and mauled by predators!? WELL THAT'S ALL GONNA BE HERE SOON! So stick around!**

 **Until then there are a few other things that we're going to see out of this fic! Go to the bottom to either cast a vote or give an idea! Because as of now I might need prompts to write!**

 **But until next time here's Judy and Nick at a stakeout. Nick's inaugural ceremony isn't for another month (according to this weird, awkward timeline I've created) and so they're gonna do some fun not cop but cop things until that time gets here! Like this one.**

 **A brief summary: Judy has a lead. Nick has donuts. It works out in the end.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

o0o

 _"I will never compromise Truth for the sake of getting along with people who can only get along when we agree."_

~D.R. Silva

o0o

* * *

Judy had always wanted to be a cop. Since she'd been a kit, watching bullies harrass smaller mammals on the school yard, she had known that she'd been destined to help others and see that justice was given to all. In her idylic mindset she had seen herself accepting honors and awards, humbly fixing up the streets and doing it all with a smile. She saw herself as a cop of all cops, a Jack of the trade, a winner all around. Someone that children looked up to and parents trusted and her chief thought of as a perfect example of law enforcement at its best.

And then she'd become a cop. And it had not been like that.

At all.

Needless to say the streets were still at odds, there weren't any medals, her coworkers thought she was a joke and her chief had done his best to use what power he had against her by _finally_ giving her a case after weeks of endless parking duty but had instead done his best to give her the worst time slot possible.

It was already well past midnight, she was more than exhausted and life wasn't seeming as perfect as she had expected it to be from the start.

Oh. And she was _lonely_.

Apparently Bogo didn't see any clear reason to allow her soon-to-be partner Nick Wilde on the case with her, though he'd already shown himself as a more than dependable asset in other situations. She'd been sent out alone with promises that what she was going to be looking for was most likely not dangerous and if anything did arrise then backup would be there as soon as possible. But until then, no partner.

Especially not Nick Wilde.

And Judy, who was well beyond the point of frustration, had a sneaky suspicion that the reason was less to do with the fact that he wasn't on the official roster and more to do with the fact that they didn't trust him, a Fox, to be sitting alone in a car with his Prey, a Bunny. And that was really just the icing on the whole goddamn cake. Because as much as she hated to admit it to herself, as much as she despised that others pressed upon him and her their ideas of what should and shouldn't be, she still knew that in the deepest pit of her beliefs... she agreed.

And perhaps it was the doubt and lingering fear that scared her even more.

She'd never liked labels though there were some that even she couldn't deny. Class, genus, species, family. All of them shaky and different and unsure. But there were a few that were far too stable to deny. They were partners. They were maybe even friends. Good friends. Best friends.

But at the end of the day there would be one solid truth that would always rise to the top.

They were Predator and Prey.

There was a certain expectation with living in Zootopia that the long time feuds between animals would automatically be erased. But like any chalkboard, there would always be remnants left behind that were almost impossible to shake away. She'd had her prejudices, and so had Nick. But he'd lived in the city his whole life, and had grown up with the judgements of Prey. Her life in the burrows hadn't been _easy_ , Predators that were present making it their goal to be at the top of the food chain and she still had the scars to show how well those incidents had gone. But even so, she was hesitant to ever let Wilde notice that she still carried around Predator-Be-Off in her glove-box, sidled closer to her larger coworkers in Predator heavy areas and did her best to stay out of the way of all things with teeth.

Things weren't made easy for her.

And then she'd announced her partnership with Wilde, and suddenly that strange plane of not-so-easy-but-managable that she'd been coasting on took a nosedive and everything seemed to be bumpy from there.

"You're working with a _Predator_!" She wasn't sure how her neighbors had found out, most likely from the many newspapers that piled up outside their always closed doors, but somehow they'd found out. And from the moment they had they the hallway had become a buzz of activity filled with skepticism and worry. Yesterday the old Lemur down the hall had practically been pacing in front of Judy's door, dropping hard candies in her wake. The day before had been a young Pig couple who'd sent her over a cake with the words _Watch Your Back_ in pink frosting on the top (a message that had really been quite mixed because of its threatening tone but delicious chocolate filling). And today, after she'd barely made it through the first few feet of the landing, had been the Beaver who lived next door. He must have heard her, because he'd already been standing, arms crossed, doing his best to show off the few inches that he had on her. " _Your_ Predator! Do you realize that, Miss Hopps?"

"No, I'm working with my friend. And yeah. I'm helping him study. I see him at his apartment twice a week. I realize it." He'd cornered her on a Tuesday after she'd gotten back from the supermarket. Her arms were sore from holding ripping plastic bags of carrots and okra. Apparently Nick had found out about her dinner-for-one's that she'd been eating out of her microwave and had decided to donate a few pots and pans to her meager kitchen, saying plainly that it was a thank you for helping him study for the test (though Judy had her suspicions that it was more along the lines of pissing off Bogo that had him feeling more than generous). Good reason or not, she finally had decent meals on her table and a spice rack that had a reason to be more than salt and pepper.

The Beaver, a well meaning but far too inquisitive mammal named Harold, scoffed, holding one of the newspapers from a few weeks before aloft in the air like a token. "It says that you're working with a Fox!" He gave the paper a shake. "You've seen the display at the museum! You _know_ what they do to Prey like us!"

"That's a museum, Harold," she said. "It's filled with things that are old and dead and don't happen much anymore."

"He's a _Fox_!"

Judy fished her keys out of the pocket of her jeans, searching through them to find the one she needed. "Yeah," she sang easily, flipping another one down the ring. "That's what he is."

" _Mrs. Hopps_ -!"

"He's a Fox, not an ancient curse, Harold."

Harold twisted his head violently at the thought, tail thumping the ground with an agitated beat. "Foxes eat Rabbits, Judy! Have you seen his _teeth_! And those _claws_ -"

"I don't think he's going to be eating me anytime soon." She found the right key, jamming it into the lock. It stuck for a moment, and she gave the metal a twist. "He's more of a beef and crickets kind'a guy."

"But what about those hunting instincts! He's still got _those_! And he's got those eyes that do that glow in the dark thing-"

"They don't glow in the dark," she answered through a rankled sigh, wondering vaguely if this was how Kindergarten teachers felt explaining the letter B over and over again. "There's a gland in the back. It shines."

"It's _creepy_!"

"We've all got our thing. Last week you said my big feet were weird." She held back the cruel comment of _your tail is a laughing stock_ , instead putting all of her anger into one final twist at the lock. The key did its job, urged on by her desperate hands, and she slid the door open with an internal cry of joy, dropping her bags on the other side of the stoop. "Now goodbye, Harold."

"Watch your back, Rabbit!"

" _Goodbye_ , Harold."

It wasn't until she was putting away the last bunch of vegetables into her fridge that she realized what had been going on. Her neighbor hadn't been _wrong_. Not because he was right, but because there were days where, like him, she had found herself staring at claws and teeth and eyes that seemed to glow in the darkest of places and had to hold back a shiver of unsettlement. It was what kept the spray can in her glove-box and the taser on her belt and the constant idea that there was something around the corner waiting to jump out and hunt her in her place.

She hadn't even told her parents the news yet. As far as they were concerned she was partnered with a mild-mannered Zebra or deer, or at least still passing out parking tickets with an orange vest.

She was waiting for that day where she called them. _Mom, dad_ , she'd say, taking a breath to bring the world in, _My partner, the one who I have entrusted to protect and defend me is one of the Predators that you used to tell me was the monster under the bed. Hope you don't mind!_

She had imagined over and over again what their reactions were, but in the end it was never good. Sure, they worked with Foxes now, but there was a certain amount of distance still taken. And it was that distance that felt like the miles that she was going to have to cross.

It wasn't particularly easy. It never had been though, Judy mused, watching outside with glazed eyes. The ball of her hand had begun to sore where the sharp point of her chin had dug in over time, her elbow beginning to absorb the imprint of the car's interior where it had been pressed against for the last few… minutes? Her gaze dropped, focused through the tired fuzz and then widened when green, luminescence blazed, stretched and cleared.

3:46 A.M.

Groaning, rubbing her fingers over her face, she leaned back. Five hours. She'd been sitting in front of the abandoned wheat mill for five hours thinking about Foxes and all the horrors of facing her parents, and still nothing had happened.

Of course she'd be the one to be given a false lead.

Two days had gone by since a theft in one of Zootopia's smaller bank's. Not much had been stolen, but the odd way it had been procured, taken from beneath the vault, tunneled under without so much as raising a single eyebrow, had sounded all of the alarms, and soon enough Zootopia's Finest had been in a tizzy.

Bogo, usually so reluctant, had needed all hands on deck. And, to Judy's immense pleasure, had put her on the case instead of parking duty. Not that he'd made it at all _easy_ for her. No, the Oxen was determined to break her anyway possible (as he had from day one and really, why would she expect any different?) and so when he'd assigned shifts she'd been given little choice. And that was why, at ten p.m., she was pulling up in front of the old mill preparing herself for the red eye shift.

And now it was 3:50 and she'd been there for five hours and barely holding it together.

Not that he'd give her any sort of risky job. She was getting a Fox as a partner in just a few months time. And Bogo was reluctant to give her anyone else to work with in the meantime. He was most likely hoping she'd quit before it happened, giving Wilde a reason to drop everything and go back to scheming. But she'd accepted, and Wilde continued his journey up the Lawful Ladder, and now she sat early in the morning wishing more than anything that she was back in bed.

The silence was too silent, the smell of the squad car was a used and brittle one and the air was too warm. Part of her wanted to crack a window, the cold night a perfect shock back to the land of the awake and living, but the district they'd placed her in was littered in garbage and the atmosphere reeked with three day old fish and sewage.

And so she suffered, blurry eyed and miserable and alone, waiting for something to happen.

A tapping on the passenger side sent a sharp _yelp_ out of her mouth that she'd later deny vehemently, her fist jumping to her chest to bunch fitfully at her nylon uniform. Terrified of the teeth and the claws and the two, green, glowing things that stared back at her.

She expected a perp with a vendetta. That was not what she received.

" _Really_ , Hopps?" his voice was muffled from outside the door and his breath, passing through his deadly canines to fog up in patches against the window. "I thought we were past the whole predator and prey thing."

And there, in the doom and the gloom, at four in the freaking morning, stood Nicholas Wilde, donned in a windbreaker and carrying two paper bags.

She let out a snarl of her own that she'd have dared to call _intimidating_ for someone her size and relaxed against the torn seat. "Oh _can it,_ Wilde," she muttered, straightening out her shirt, feeling her heart beat stubbornly refuse to slow. "This is a _stakeout_ ," she added, looking up to glare through the glass, speaking loud enough for him to hear her through it. "Would it _kill_ you to not blow my cover."

" _Our_ cover," he pointed out with a weak smirk. He balanced one of the bags in the crook of his arm, tapping the glass with a knuckle. "Let me in."

She crossed her arms. "I already told you. It's a _stakeout_."

"And last time I checked," he added, words puffing, "we're partners!"

"Not yet. You're not supposed to be here until we _are_."

"You said we were before." Another of his trademark smirks pulling at his lips. "You know kindergarten rules, Hopps."

"Refresh my memory."

"No takebacks," he noted with a wise tone that looked otherworldly when spoken around all the sass. "That's what I'm here for. To remind you to play nice."

"That was before you tried to ruin my stakeout." She made a show of crossing her arms. " _You're not supposed to be here_. Not until you've got a badge."

"Do you have more of those stickers."

"No!"

"I _know_ you do." He was right. She did. She _always_ did, carrying them in the glove compartment to give to especially chatty and friendly children with dreams to one day join the mammals in blue. But damned if he could know that… not that he already didn't.

"Go away."

"Oh come on, Carrots! It'll be good for me to get some fieldwork! I need the _practice_."

"Ask your instructor! I'm sure he'd give you something to do."

"My instructor spends half the time saying that Foxes can't be Officers. This is so much better."

"All you'll do is annoy me!"

"What else am I for?"

He stepped from one foot to the other, a pink tongue darting out to lick chapped, blackened lips, and for a moment she could see his carnassials flash an unsettlingly pointed, bony white, his muzzle wrinkling into a faux snarl. "Besides, what Bogo doesn't know won't hurt him, right?" He smiled, and his teeth flashed. Her long ears twitched, flicking against the warmed air. There was always a moment, she'd admit. That odd, strange, _primal_ moment where predator and prey were oh too real and nightmares were just premonitions of something horrible that would occur.

That her mother had been right- she was nice to far too trusting. And that one day she'd turn around from a hug only to find a knife had been stuck in her back.

Or perhaps, ears lowering, pressing against her spine, it was her father who had been the voice of reason. _Watch out for those Weasels. And Lynxes. And Foxes_ , he'd told her and her siblings time and time again, nervous fingers intertwining in sailors knots they'd never had the skewed nerves to learn. _Especially Foxes. They'll eat you whole and gnaw on your bones_. Then, after a moment, _or just insult you… at least_. Her father had grown up in a time where it was perfectly normal to hear alarms blaring from sidewalks to alert them all of predators in the area. Where they were dinner not just sold in supermarkets. Where rabbits and smaller animals could have found themselves in the center of a table for being in the front yard at the wrong time.

But times had changed… somewhat. There was still an air of tension around them all. And no matter how much she pretended to not remember, it was hard to take away the truth that over in towns filled with just carnivores of Nick's ilk it was perfectly normal to pick up a frozen hare in the deli aisle.

 _Dad, things aren't like that anymore_ , she'd said.

Her father had just patted her head the same way he had years before when she'd still been a kit and gazed down at his daughter with eyes far older in their sympathies. _Just… watch out, alright, Judy_?

 _Alright, Dad_.

He had a right to be scared. She was a police officer, not a shop girl. There were reports of violent assaults weekly; animals reverting back out of a desperate need, a sickly pleasure, a forgetful snap. She'd seen the bruises and the shock and the apologies and the recommended therapy that came with events like that.

Like it or not, she was still prey.

And the thing that was standing outside of her window…

"Hey, Judes!" She snapped from her reveries, ears flinching back. He was bouncing now, clicking incisors in the chill. "It's _freezing_ out here! Mind letting me in before my tail falls off!"

"Oh!" Her hand reached back, tapping the side door mutely, before finally feeling the _snap_ of the button, locks falling back with tiny _thunks_. The door was open before she'd had a chance to tell him that he could, and she nearly flinched at the assault of freezing wind that hit her without mercy. It wasn't snowing yet, but the temperature was well below the thirties. A light windbreaker was all that he'd grabbed, and even that he stripped off as soon as the door had slammed shut, throwing it into the back. He gave his ridiculous patterned tie a tug (today was apparently orange with purple squiggles which clashed horribly against his green shirt), pulling it tighter where it hung sloppily around his neck. "Sorry…" she chuckled awkwardly when he'd puffed out a sigh of relief. "Got… a little lost in thought."

"Yeah," he breathed, running his paw over his ears, rubbing at them with a sour twist in his lip. "I could see that."

"Sorry," she said again, offering him a tiny smile.

The smirk was back, "Hey. A little cold isn't gonna get to me, Carrots. I'm tough as a-"

"Fox."

"I was gonna say Bear, but whatever floats yer boat." Nick gave his ears one last rub before dropping his hand. He looked at her, cocking his head, ears perking. His eyes crinkled and she pressed back. It was a look she'd seen before, but there was something different about it. She'd seen him terrified, furious, smug. This was… concern? "You okay, Judes?" Yes. Concern. That was it. Not entirely new, but not something she was used to.

"Am I-"

"You look like you saw a ghost. Or a Naturalist. What? Is there something there?" He looked out the windshield, almost expecting a perp to be standing in front of them, gun in hand.

"What? Oh! No… No I'm-" she forced her ears back up, trilling an awkward laugh out, waving his question away with a shaking paw. "Nothing. It's just… things getting to me. Stress or something like that." The Fox next to her gave her a look. "I'm _fine_ ," she assured him, not sure who she was calming, but doing it all the same. "Promise."

He finally relented, shrugging it off. Giving his tie another tug he grabbed something before reaching towards her, paw nearing her face. She almost ducked away when-

"I wasn't sure if you liked sugar or not," Fortunately he was looking into a bag and hadn't seen her reaction. She blinked at the cup he held out, taking it hesitantly. He grabbed his own and tucked into the cup holder between them while he rooted through the other bag. It was a white, crumpled thing, pinched in the middle to keep it closed. She looked down at the cup and her nose twitched, snatching onto whatever scents she could. Coffee. Sipping it she couldn't help but smile. Three sugars, two creams.

He knew her too well.

"It's not the cheap stuff either," he promised with a smirk. "'was gonna get it from the gas station down the way, but Hole was open-"

"You went to _Hole_!" The bakery was uptown, closer to the snazzier shops, and was run by a Mole who had gotten up in the world by selling overpriced baked goods. Wallets hated their owners for going there, but sometimes it was more than worth it. Too much money or not, Hole knew how to fry dough.

"Yeah." He finally pulled out what he was looking for, passing her the orange donut. "And you owe me a _mint_. I was the only one there. They hadn't even started up the fryer. Guy practically shoved me out the door for ordering this early." He took a gulp of his own coffee -black, dark roast, bitter- and smacked his lips. "You'd better eat it all for what that things worth." She snatched it, humming through the first bite. Her stomach growled in appreciation. She hadn't realized she'd even been starving. He took out his own, crumpling the bag and tossing it in back with his coat. The rabbit with the badge swallowed back the indignation, letting the carelessness she'd gotten so used to slip with the ever so wonderful sacrifice of 4 AM breakfast and sweet, much needed caffeine. "Gave me a look when I told him my partner was a rabbit."

"You didn't have to tell him, you know," she said around a bite.

"I ordered _carrot_ , Carrots." he pointed out, taking a bite from the one in his hand, leaving jagged marks and the smell of something that like the dark ends of a roast and crunched like fried bunches of crickets. And it took her a moment in the smell and the sound to realize that she'd gotten morosely used to both of them. "The guy was about to question my ethics."

"Sure he was." Sighing, taking another sip of coffee and letting the steam of it fog up the windshield with a homey memory of her parents kitchen back at the Farm. He leaned forward, fiddling with the radio dials, growling through the static until he finally found one with the least amount of interception. Fuzzy jazz crooned softly into the space, filling the car with a familiar and friendly quiet between the two natural enemies. They both looked forward, watching the empty building in front of them.

"What's been happening so far?"

"Nothing much. Been here for a few hours already."

He snorted. "Bogo assign you the red-eye again? Or did you volunteer? Because I swear, Carrots, if you did we need to have a long talk about taking care of your stupid self. I can't always babysit you, you know?"

"You don't actually have to take care of me, Wilde. I'm a big Bunny."

"You're an idiot with a need to please."

"Oh _hush_." She took a sip of coffee. "And for your information, I didn't volunteer. I was _assigned_. Whis is more than I can say for the last few months." Because really all she'd worked were a few parades, parking duty and the ever so thrilling evidence room. But Wilde was still less than impressed.

"Let me guess." He took a bite of his donut, and she listened to the crunch as his canines sunk into cricket wing sprinkles. "He gave everyone else the _reasonable_ hours. And then you were left with the bottom of the pot."

"No!" He gave her a withering look. "I mean… it wasn't the _bottom_. And at least it's something, right!" She was tempted to change the channel. The trumpets were a little too soft for her liking, and she'd already lost enough sleep over this case alone. Another hour of soothing melodies and she wasn't sure if she'd make it.

"You're too nice, Hopps."

"I'm an _optimist_ , Wilde. You should try it some time, cynic."

"I'm not a _cynic_ ," he defended easily. "I'm a realist. There's a _difference_. Look it up."

"Uh huh. Sure." She was silently grateful when jazz picked up a tempo, drums ticking away a crazy, unmanaged beat. "How'd you find me here, anyway? I didn't send out any info. And Bogo'd have my _head_ if I did."

"Naw. I just asked Clawhauser. He's taking the late hours tonight anyway. I got lucky he was there, too. His shift replacement doesn't like me. Wouldn't have told me anything. Stubborn cow."

"Nick!"

"What!" He laughed when she swatted at him. "She's a _Cow_! What else do you want me to say!"

"You're _impossible_."

"No. I'm _irresistible_." He waggled his brows. There was nothing she could do to keep her frown secure, and after a moment her smile had broken back and she's cuffed him on the arm. He'd victoriously reached over, ruffling the fur on her head in retaliation. "Alright, what's the story with tonight, anyway. A murder? An assault? Ooh! Secret government information!"

"A _robbery_. Few thousand bucks went missing at a time. The lead you gave me was super valuable by the way. Lead me here. Bogo already caught a few of the accomplices, but so far none of them are talking."

"So you think you've found the big fish, huh?"

"Looks like!"

"Well look at that!" Nick nudged her with his elbow, practiced smug mask flawlessly seeping into his features. "Judy and Nick! Solving major crimes all over again!"

"Yeah," she smiled back. "Together again."

He gave her a long look, ears twitching this way and that in thought. She paid him little mind, leaning forward to turn the music up. A new song had started, and from the applause in the background it must have been live. Trumpets blared, a saxophone yawned and drums hissed into attention. Part of her just wanted to sink into it all and disappear for a while. Together again. They _were_ together again. And she should have been _happier_. But for some reason the feeling of doubt gnawing away at her gut didn't seem to want to go away, testing her in every which way, repeating warnings spoken by those who didn't know any better.

Looking over for the briefest moment, giving her to-be partner a once over, she couldn't help but know how _lucky_ she was. Not many ended up being so close to the person they worked with, and even less trusted that person with their life. But she did. And now, because of that, he was losing friends, she was questioned endlessly, and the world expected her to be hanging from his jaws or running in fear. And scolding the both of them when they didn't follow through.

She almost expected him to leave. To wake up and realize the mistake he'd made. A Predator partnering with it's _Prey_. There was nothing more ridiculous or shameful. And he had every right to recognize that and turn on his tail.

But now he was sitting next to her, chiding and goading and acting like nothing was wrong. Like he was so _willing_ to be there. _Happy_ to be there. And promising, without so many words, that he wasn't going to be going anywhere.

Judy wasn't yet sure if that irked or terrified her.

Nick noticed the way her face had dropped, leaning forward to turn down the music. The saxophone fell beneath static once more, the audience drowning in the reception.

"Carrots? You okay?"

"I'm fine."

He didn't buy it. She didn't know why he would. She had always been the worst of liars. With a snort he gave her ear a chastising tug, ignoring her yelp of protest. "What's with you?"

"Nothing's with me." She took the last few bites of her donut, rubbing at her poor, abused ear, glaring vehemently through her lashes. Giving herself anything to do.

"Like I can't tell by now. You're _brooding_."

"I am not _brooding_ , Nick. I'm on a case. This is my _on-a-case_ look."

"No, it's your _someone said something_ look." There was the sound of slurping when he gave his coffee another draining gulp. "So, what'd they do this time? Ask you how the meter maid business was going."

"No!" Her ears fell. "Sort of."

The smirk followed the half lidded eyes, and Wilde muffled a victorious _hah!_ through more caffeine. "Have I ever been wrong."

"Are you actually asking me that? Because you might not like the answer."

He shrugged, waving it away. "So, what'd they do."

It took a moment to collect herself so that she didn't spring him with a million different reasons why people were the worst and that there was no way around the fury that was slowly building inside her. Part of her wanted to lie and say that it was the meter maid business. Another wanted to strike down her enemies with vicious words. But she had never been one for revenge, and if she even _tried_ to make up a story he'd be on her case faster than… then a Fox hunting a Rabbit. And tonight was already hard enough as it was to pretend as if she wasn't hating that idea more.

So after a few breaths, sure that she could speak in a relatively civil manner, she offered the Fox beside her a mild, withering look. "The newspapers everywhere have us on them." she explained evenly. "I didn't even know that they'd _seen_ us. And I'm not sure if its about the case or about… Who the heck knows what its about. But we're there. That's all." He made a face, snout crinkling in realization. "I mean, we're not even on the first page. I didn't really think anyone besides my dad read the paper anymore. But my entire hall does. Or did, I guess. And now they're all _really_ adamant on giving their opinion."

"And what's their opinion."

"The usual," she brushed crumbs off her lap, trying hard to avoid his gaze. "They just want to warn me."

" _Warn_ you!" He snorted. "About what! The dangers of the job? Don't think a rabbit can jump high enough to get away?" He cackled, his laughter filled with aging coffee and too little sleep. "Or _what_! Does it have to do with _me_? What do they think I'm going to do? _Eat_ you?" Another laugh. He looked at her jovially, waiting for her to join in. It was when she didn't that his features began to slowly droop. Judy just stayed silent, fiddling with her shirt. It didn't take long for Nick to get the message. "Oh…" Ears dropping, sitting back against the seat. " _Oh_."

She was back up in a moment, watching how he mirrored her just moments before, looking at anything but the violet eyes that now were doing anything just to catch his attention. "It's not like I _listen_ to them, though!"

"It's _fine_."

"No it's _not_ , Nick! They're just… ugh!" Her hands were in the air, almost scratching the top of the roof. "I mean, I can't talk! I was _like_ them a while ago! But _god_ do they have to be so… _persistent_ about this! And don't you dare say it's okay!" She cut him off, and his maw snapped shut with a _pop_. "Them being afraid for me is affecting you. And it shouldn't. We're partners, not a hazard zone."

"They seem to think so."

"Yeah, well they'll think anything as long as the two of us are still together." He made another sulking noise. Judy snorted. "Don't act like an innocent in this, Wilde. You had your thoughts. And I'm sure that if some of your friends found out who you were partnering with they'd be less than happy."

His arms folded across his chest, careful of the coffee still in his hand. She looked out the windshield, equally glad and peeved at the silence between them. Watching for something to move, waiting for everything between Predator and Prey to resolve itself. She was about to speak up, tell Nick to forget she'd said anything, when he spoke up. " _Found_ out."

"What?"

He shifted to face her, and for once it was unsettling to see that the trademark smirk held a strange and sad sort of twist. "I told them, Carrots. Last week. Went out for beers with some of the guys, you know? And they asked what I was doing. So I told them."

"You _told_ them!" If she hadn't been so completely dead set on not dropping her breakfast, both her treasured donut and coffee would have gone spilling to the floor of the cruiser. " _What_! _Why_! You never told me!"

"Of course I didn't tell you! If I had you'd act- well, you're acting like it now, so there you go! And what do you mean _why_? Why wouldn't I!"

 _Because I didn't think you would_! She wanted to say back. _Because I know that that could ruin your reputation. Because I know how much your image means to you and I didn't think for a second that you'd chance giving it up for someone like me_. But instead, "Because… because I don't want you to lose friends over this." It was sincere enough, even if it wasn't what she wanted to blurt out. And he knew it, his smile going sadder.

"A few stuck around. And that's good enough, right?"

"Oh god… Nick. I'm-"

"Hey!" He cuffed her on the arm. "No harm no foul, right? If they couldn't take me like this, then who needs'm!"

It wasn't entirely true. Nick hadn't had many friends to begin with. Con artists weren't known for their trustworthy behavior, and none of his acquaintances were given gold stars for comradery. But there were a few (a very select few) who he was more than happy to go out for a beer with. So a few weeks ago, sitting in the dingy bar near his house, surrounded by a few old business partners, he had told them the news without thinking anything of it.

A Ferret by the name of Dave Putois had been the first to ask.

"So Slick Nick's becoming a cop!" He'd elbowed the Fox with a pointed arm that dug in far deeper than intended. "Finally decided to join the Pigs, eh!"

"In a sense, yeah." The beer in the backroom bar was awful, and his snout recoiled and folded at the metallic, sour taste. "Except there aren't many Pigs. Mostly Rhino's and Elephants."

A Mongoose on the other end of the table snorted. "So what? You gonna be paired with one'a them leatherheads? What if they accidentally step on ya! Must be tough always being underfoot!"

"Like he wasn't always underfoot here too," a Hyena chortled, and the rest of the table fell into cackling laughter.

Nick didn't bother waiting for it to die down, forcing down another swallow of the tepid stuff in front of him. "No. My partner's smaller than me. No worries there."

"What? You got yerself half a Rhino or somethin'!"

There wasn't even a chance for another round of laughter when Nick calmly and careless replied. "Naw. Judy's a Rabbit."

And that had been it.

The sounds of the bar around them, fighting, crying, screaming, singing, heels clicking on counters, an old jukebox in the corner, all expanded as his table became silent. Sets of eyes, all glowing green in the dim light, blinked owlishly at the Fox, who took another gulp of awful beer and stared back at them from under his lashes.

"... Wait… _what_ …?" The Hyena leaned on his elbows. His eyes gleamed and sparked in the headlights that passed outside the bar's front door. "You're joking."

"Naw. Never been much of a jokester."

The Mongoose clapped his jaw closed from where it had been hanging enough to exclaim, "You're a Fox!"

"We're sly." Wilde counteracted without so much as a beat. "Not liars. Just really, really good at getting our way."

" _But you're a Fox_!"

"You ever thought about becoming a philosopher. You're just so… introspective."

"Come on, Wilde!" Apparently Dave Putois had reached a steady enough mind before the others, his smile as cool and slick as the animal's before him. "You're not thinking straight. What? Did you have a bad hustle? You know if you ask we can all help you get on your feet?"

"You shouldn't be telling me that." Nick sang the words out through a smile that reached his eyes. "You of all people should know that talking to cops won't do you any good."

"Aw come on, Nick! Don't be like that! You wouldn't rat me out. After all we've been through!" He took a gulp of his own beer, and from the way he slurped it down it looked as if he'd grown far too accustomed to the cheap stuff to even notice the flavor. "You not make enough money lately? You an' Finnick break up the team?"

"Finnick's fine. He's got his own thing right now."

"Well maybe you should call him! Get this new Partner… what's his name? Get him off your back!"

"First of all, Finnick's making more dough right now with his own gig. He's not gonna wanna come back to me. And as for my Partner," he decided finally that he wasn't going to chance anymore of the fermented filth in the glass, pushing it away. "she's a girl. And she's staying where she's at. But thanks for the concern."

Putois whistled. "Ooh! Look at you! Who knew this is what would get you down! A Rabbit!" The Weasel picked peanut shells out of his sharpened incisors. "You gotta be kiddin' me! That's who they paired ya with?" He'd laughed, his thin body stretching and bending along with the motion. "Do they _know_ what's gonna happen to her if they do that?"

"What are you talking about this time, Dave?" Nick tapped his claws against his glass, condensation breaking and slithering down in hazy droplets.

"Aw don't act like you don't know!"

"Enlighten me."

"She's a _Rabbit_! One'a _our Prey_! What! Did they just have a dinner special at the Police station and decided to hand you the leftovers!"

If he had been getting angry, Wilde was doing a _fantastic_ job at not showing it. Taking another gulp from the neck of the bottle he put it down, searching through his pockets for spare change. "Yeah, about that. They didn't choose her for me. I chose her. Because I worked with her. She's gonna be my partner."

" _What_!"

" _You chose to work with a Rabbit_!"

"Mmhmm." The other two were done with the conversation it would seem, sitting back defeated, their faces shifting with their conflicting emotions, from fear to distress to anger to fury, too much and too fast. "She was worried it would ruin my reputation. But I told her that it'd be fine. We're gonna sign the papers in a month after my training and commencement."

" _Wilde_ , come _on_!"

"How much was this again? I only got one beer, and I'm _not_ picking up the tab."

" _Wilde what are going doing_!"

"That bartender was an ass, too. He's not getting a tip."

Claws slamming on the thin, stained table caught his attention, and his ears perked up, eyes casting a bored stare back at the heaving, frantic animal. " _You're givin' a bad name to Predators everywhere_!" Dave snarled, teeth flashing in a snarl. "Why are you _doing_ this! Why _Prey_! Why _your Prey_!"

"Because," Nick had told them smoothly, offering a thin leer. "She's my friend." He slapped a fiver onto the table, motioning for the bartender to let him see. When he got a nod he slipped off the chair, adjusting his tie. "And if any of you so much as look at her the wrong way, I'll taze you and drag your sorry asses into a cell. I have enough to book you now anyway. But hey," he shrugged, turning on his heel. "That's what you get for doing bad business with a cop."

He'd hailed a cab before they'd had a chance to follow him out. But that night, after locking his deadbolt, and double checking every chain, he'd gotten more than a few calls and texts that were all warnings for him and his newly found partner. He'd called McHorn and Clawhouser that night, emailed them transcripts, phone numbers and the like with promises that his and Judy's safety would be a priority.

He hadn't told Judy. And he didn't think he ever would. But for now he was happy enough to explain that what friends he'd had were now not exactly in contact. From the look on her face she was obviously distraught, not wanting to be the reason that he ended up losing connection with people that she, in her purest of minds, thought were the most important things in the world. Apparently she hadn't yet grasped the concept that he'd never had any real friends to lose…

… Except, of course, until her.

"Judes, it's okay, really!" She still looked like she wanted to pitch in something. Always willing to do anything for people she cared about, the poor thing was about ready to launch into a new project of getting all of his friends back. He just shook his head when her mouth opened, and she snapped it promptly shut. "They were jerks, alright? Don't get involved."

" _But_ -"

"Nope! Don't wanna hear it!" He moved as if it to pull her ear again, but she ducked out of the way before he could, swatting at his hands with a growl. "You're stuck with me, Judy Hopps. Me and my midnight escapades to crash your stakeouts! Except next time there's a stakeout _you're_ bringing the coffee."

"I thought Foxes were supposed to be _charming_." she added dryly, defending her poor ears by plastering them back.

"We're _sly_ , Carrots! And last time I checked I was kind enough to supply your little snooze fest here with something other than silence." He crossed his arms in faux offense. She just rolled her eyes.

"Fine. I owe you."

" _Thank you_."

He leaned forward to turn the music back up, settling himself back into the seat. At one point he took out his phone, the sound of tapping its own percussion. She watched out the window. There was still no movement. A street light began to flicker and from the sidewalk an old Tiger strolled down the way with his cane scraping the cracks of the broken sidewalk. The sky was overcast, but a break in the clouds let a few strings of moonlight arch through, and the fell through the dirty and dusty glass hitting both her and the Mammal beside her, whose eyes, for the barest of moment that the clouds allowed, shone an eerie and disturbing green.

A bottle shattered off to the side and her ear shot up, twisting this way and that. But it must have fallen out of a trash bin because besides the music and the tapping of Nick's phone there was no other noise. The car fell back into easy silence and so she did her best to relax, envying Wilde, who so effortlessly could let everything go. Letting her large ears focus on other noises instead to try and calm her beating heart, doing her best to overcome the pressure of a case that she couldn't afford to lose and the exhaustion of too much time without sleep. The sound of the wind coasting along the car, the distant rumblings of a train far off, Nick's steady breathing.

 _Nick_ …

Her gut twisted at the thought of him. Judy had come into a city with no contacts or connections. What she'd had to let go was so near to nothing that there wasn't nearly enough to feel sorry for. Her neighbors were awful, her new landlord gave her the occasional pitiful look, people on the street were apparently more than happy to offer their opinions and there were days where she herself doubted everything for reasons that she couldn't be sure… History, maybe. Past ideas. Fear that stuck more than roots in the ground. Fear that she still dealt with every day…

But Nick had lived in the city since he'd been a kid. And she didn't want her presence, a new and intruding one, to mess up life as he knew it. Her fear, her doubts, her _Species_ , shouldn't be the thing that lost everything for him.

She didn't realize that she'd been twisting her shirt in her hands until she let go of the thing between cramped fingers. Giving him another look she quickly ducked her head away. The words were out before she'd had time to think about them. "You didn't actually have to tell them, you know," she offered shyly, fiddling with her badge. "I… I get it. If you didn't want to tell them. Don't feel obligated or anything. From now on, I mean." _Because you're a Fox_ , she didn't say, _and I'm a rabbit. And we go as well together as carrot and meat donuts in a warm car on a freezing morning_.

Nick - _Sly Fox, Always Knows What to Say, friend above all friends, Nick_ \- looked up from his phone, alarmed at first and then, just as always, slinking into his usual smugness that she'd used to think held nothing but animosity. He slung his arm over the back of her chair, giving her the low lidded look. The one that now made her feel safe and at home and _wonderful_. The one that had taken time to translate through the odd language that only he had seemed to speak until she'd come along and had to learn it for herself. The one that she had picked up fairly quickly. The one that said a million different things, all of them punctuated with _friend_. "C'mon, Judes," he told her, rolling his eyes skyward. "You really think I'm not gonna tell them that I'm partnered with the best Bunny on the force."

"I'm the _only_ -"

"You're the _best_. Bunny or not." He gave another shrug. "They can think what they want. I'll just say what I want and ignore'm all."

It was times like these that Judy was driven to tell him that she loved him. That she'd never had a friend as close as him and if anything happened to him, to _them_ , she wouldn't know what to do. That she was lucky to have him by her side and that she couldn't see a future without her phone blowing up with texts and calls or the hand at her side or the daily hugs or the smirks or the quips or the unlikely pair they'd become.

But she kept her mouth shut.

Because Bunny's and Foxes weren't supposed to be best friends… and she wasn't supposed to say that… and she was so scared, like with everyone else, like she had once before not so very long ago, that she'd ruin everything and lose what she had. Because what she had was perfect, and for the first time in a long time she wasn't ready to let any of it go.

So she kept her mouth shut.

"You're an idiot," she said instead.

He smiled back, and she really hoped he'd gotten it all.

 _Tell him_ , a voice shouted. The voice that tended to come out whenever she had coffee and donuts brought to her by a potential best friend who she'd had yet to admit that to. An event that was seemingly occurring more and more. _Tell him how you feel, you Dumb Bunny_. _Tell him how much he means to you!_

Movement in the distance saved her from having to listen much longer. Her ears perked, shifting, and Nick's eyes narrowed through the darkness that she found thicker than mud but he cut through without much trouble. The Badger they were looking for had closed the factory door closed with a bit more force than he'd needed to, sneaking across the grounds towards a beat up white truck hidden behind two dumpsters. The ignition started up with a coughing gasp. "Looks like our lead did us good."

"What do you mean _our_ lead," she scoffed. "I was the one doing the work!"

" _After_ I gave you _my_ contacts."

"Oh yes. Your shifty, past contacts that, might I add, Bogo still doesn't know about."

"Do you want to talk or do you want to catch that guy?"

"Sly Fox!"

" _Dumb_ Bunny!"

"You're gonna eat those words."

"Then prove it!"

She let him turn on the siren, revving up the engine, and the two of them were off after the van before he'd had much of a chance. Nick lowered the windows, whooping into the cool night air, leaning his head out into the thick, cool breeze. With the wind in her ears, the smell of coffee permeating the space, and her partner at her side, there wasn't much that could stop her from smiling, and soon enough she was howling along with him.

One day she'd tell him. And even if that wasn't the day, it still made for a pretty damn good one in her book.

She looked over at him one last time.

 _One day_ , she promised herself before she floored it.

* * *

 **She hasn't told him that she loves him yet! BUT SHE WILL! _AND I CANNOT WAIT TO WRITE THAT! BUT UNTIL THEN..._**

 **There are a few things that I want to write before the movie comes out. Some will come after, but for the most part this is the tentative plan.**

 **1) Meet the parents (both Nick meets Judy's and Judy meets Nick's) (This one will contain _some spoilers_!)**

 **2) Valentines Day (hopefully that'll be out _by_ Valentines Day!)**

 **3) Trust**

 **4) Nick and Judy in training together (so much research about animals was done for this one!)**

 **But you know what- I DON'T HAVE A FRIGGEN CLUE!**

 **SO TELL ME SOME IDEAS PEOPLE! I _might_ write them! Prompts are necessary and I can't always stick to a plan! So if you have something you want to see that hasn't already been said (or maybe already has been!) give me what you've got! Whatever they are, for now make sure that they take place _before_ Wilde is given his badge! That's not going to happen until the movie comes out! **

**And yes, I promise, the mauled one is coming up. One or the other is going to be _severely injured_. It's going to be fast paced, terrifying, spine tingling and heart breaking. It's already 1/4 written. AND I CANNOT WAIT TO SHARE IT WITH YOU! Because I know so far that one is a winner. **

**So that's what I got! Tell me what you want to see!**


	5. The Vulpecular Valentine

**Want to know something interesting about me?**

 **I can write _really long stories_ by accident.**

 **So what was meant to be no more than 9,000 words is now over 25,000 words.  
**

 **It can be pain to write (not that I could do any shorter... I'm lousy at short stories.), but I'm told that most people are glad for the length. You're welcome, people. I'm glad I can give you a solid novel to read the day away...**

 **Sorry this is late folks! You know how testing is. It's a pain. A time consuming, life-taking-over pain. But I had time in between to work on this! And though it didn't come out _on_ Valnetine's Day, it still is close enough that I think we can just let it slide. **

**Let me just preface this with: THIS WAS A PERSONAL CHALLENGE FOR ME!**

 **How to write a _VALENTINE'S DAY SPECIAL_ between two main characters that lots of people ship without adding an _ounce_ of romance. And let me tell you, I was stuck on it for a while. But then the clouds parted and the sun peeked out and the answers became clear!**

 **So here you are folks. Valentine's Day without romance.**

 **APOLOGIES FOR ANY GRAMMATICAL ERRORS! I wanted to get this out ASAP and I finished it around 2 in the morning. Things happen, people. And I'll go back and edit this as much as I can as we go along!**

 **Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

o0o

"I am glad you are here with me. Here at the end of all things..."

 _~J.R.R. Tolkien_

o0o

* * *

Judy knew that when she moved to the City things would be different.

The Bunny Burrows had been her home for so long, and she loved everything that they were. Crowded, chaotic, scenic, hands-on. It was somewhere you lived if you weren't afraid of getting your hands dirty. Judy hadn't left because she couldn't. She left because she was the one who wanted to clean them.

And so she'd gone to the city to become a cop. And from the moment she'd stepped onto soil that wasn't soil at all she had felt completely at home. It was chaotic, it was crowded, it was scenic and it was hands on. Except instead of farms there were skyscrapers. And instead of two hundred plus relatives, it was eight million unknown bodies occupying the same space.

All in all, it was oh so different, but oh so very much the same.

And Judy had loved it…

Sort of…

It did have its moments. Moments where bias was cruel and predators were everywhere and friends were scant and the working world was demeaning. There were days where her landlord was awful (more so than her last one, and that had been a nightmare in of itself) and her small apartment was broken down and cold and leaking and days where she missed the early mornings of the Burrows where there was nothing but the sunrise to wake you. Now her mornings were alarms and air conditioners and creaking radiators and picture frames of her family and far away calls from her parents.

But it wasn't all bad.

It _wasn't_ …

And then, like a light switch flicking down, it was February. And suddenly not-so-bad turned to not-so-good which turned into _not-at-all_.

It was _freezing_ , which meant her apartment was _freezing_. There was ice on the stairs that constantly found itself melted in puddles on slick tiled floors. And for a creature like a Bunny, an animal with the rare and _unfortunate_ trait of having no pads on their paws for tractions, her days were spent slipping to and fro and trying her best not to fall on her face; an event that happened more than she'd like to admit now that the ground wasn't made of grass and dirt and things that didn't vehemently _betray you_.

She'd always imagined that the city was like a star in the sky during winter. Soft snows coating it in something wonderful and beautiful and _absolute_. She imagined that it lit up like a Christmas Tree and smelled like pinecones and electrified the air with its merriment.

But it didn't.

Instead it was _grey_. The snow on the side of the roads collected in dirty piles of trash and melted down mud. The ice was a mixture of car exhaust and three in the morning vomit. The lights did nothing more than act as _too bright_ reminders of what she was missing when the world wasn't perpetually dark. The gently falling flakes were long combined with cigarette smoke and factory smog. And the blanket of white did nothing more than help make the noises of everything around her ten times louder, the air no longer accepting sound to muffle it into echoes, and her poor ears were suffering daily, painkillers a new and very much despised _must have_.

And just to add insult to injury, Zootopia in February was a land awash with _pink_.

Pink awnings, pink window displays, pink boxes of heart shaped chocolates in drug stores and leaning in racks on the side of confectioners and a seemingly infinite amount of the cheesy, punny, romantic stuff finding its way into every single crack and crevice that made up the wild and dense urban area. When Judy had moved from Bunny Burrow she hadn't quite been prepared. Valentine's day was an event where she came from. But during winter most farmlands were hibernating and families tended to stick to themselves. She hadn't had many friends and her siblings were a handful, so they had decorated their house with little heart shaped candles and a few vases filled with chocolate bits that had to be kept out of reach of the smaller of their lot. Snowball fights were frequent, but most Prey went home with their tails between their legs after Predators (like Gideon Grey and his stubborn as all hell posse) beat them to a pulp.

It had still been a good time, though.

And when her days as a cop had started out, she'd used that weather to her advantage. Tickets to Zootopia weren't cheap, and so her access to training grounds that replicated the different boroughs was nonexistent. So for the most part she'd used what she'd had, and the cool weather (not quite as chilly as the endless snow of Tundra Town, but certainly a good enough replacement) had been enough to help her prepare for at least one of the few tasks she'd have to partake in. And so winters as an older Bunny had been spent training, helping her father and mother manage the funds for the next year's carrot intake and doing her darndest to entertain two hundred plus small Bunnies with the energy of a sugar high malitia.

And then Judy had actually moved to Zootopia. And when the weather got colder, and her apartment followed along and tried to freeze her out, and the first few snowflakes dotted down from the sky, she hadn't really been ready for what was ahead.

The first clue into the chaos had been Clawhauser.

Her first few months on the job there had been a major forest fire in the Amazon district, and she'd been one of the acting officers on scene to help direct people to safety and keep the more curious bunches away. It had been a horrible wonder to watch that event take place. The fire had fortunately not been devastating, but it had taken its toll, and no matter how fast the Firefighters had done their jobs, the speed that their natural advisory had raced them with had been uncanny.

And that was what Judy could only use to describe whatever the hell had happened to Clawhauser's desk.

On January 31st, she'd handed in her quota to the portly Cheetah. As usual she'd been one of the last out (matched only by the fact that she was generally the first to arrive as well) and had bid him goodnight. "Any plans tonight?" the Feline had asked cheerily, filing away the different papers, stamping a few others.

She'd shaken her head, smiling awkwardly over the rim of the too-tall desk, stepping as high as her tip-toes would allow to at least _try_ and catch a glimpse of the Mammal sitting on the other side. "No. Just me and my tv. The new season of Mole Men is on and-"

"Oh, girl, you don't have to tell me twice!" The sound of the shredder started, eating away at a few documents. "I've been recording that for the last two weeks! This weekend is all about catching up!" He leaned over, giving her a good look at a twisted and wonderful smile. "So that means tomorrow I don't wanna have a repeat of last month, you got it?"

"Yeah, sorry about that…" A few weeks ago one of the characters had cheated on another's wife, starting an uproar in the mafia and headlining for a major political scandal. Judy had strolled into work the next day and had immediately asked what Clawhauser thought of it all. Needless to say, her spotted friend and coworker was less than pleased that such a magnanimous event had been spoiled. "I swear, not a _word_." She pretended to zip her lips and threw the key over her shoulder. Clawhouser just snorted.

"You'd _better_ , Judy Hopps. I hear this week's going to be a _doozy_!" He passed her a few confirmations over the desk. "Nick not gonna watch with you tonight?"

"He hates that show. I tried to get him into it but…"

"He's missing out!" the Cheetah sang.

"He's got his reality television. As long as he's happy I won't complain."

"You _should_ complain. And if you call him tonight, tell him to update me on the next HouseCats of the Amazon. I missed the last two and I heard that Felicia might be getting remarried! Her fiance's a real _catch_! Tiger with a strong jaw. Forgot his name, but that doesn't really matter. Nothing matters when you've got a jaw like his." He fanned himself with a case file, bearing fangs in a lecherous grin. "All I can say is that if she doesn't want him…"

Judy just chortled, calling out a happy "I will!" over her shoulder as she headed out.

After she'd bid him goodnight, took the train home and did her best to scavenge a meager dinner from the fridge, she'd poured herself a glass of her farm's brewed wine and had watched an hour of people ruining each others lives in secretive political circles. The only interruption had happened during the middle of another _devastating_ cheating scandal when her phone had rang. If it hadn't been Nick, she wouldn't have answered. But it had been. And so she'd all but yelled at him that her show was on and it had better have been pretty damn important (it wasn't) and he should call her back later (he would) and if he called her again when the President was banging his secretary in what would ultimately turn the nation over into turmoil one more time she wouldn't bring him any blueberries from her next trip home. He'd then asked a stupid question ( _how many scandals is this dumb President having anyway_!) and she'd hung up on him.

All in all, it had been a perfect night.

The next day she'd gone in, expecting to see the same thing she always did, ready to goad their Precincts secretary and operator about the episode…

It had been _exactly_ like watching the forest fire.

Not even twelve hours ago, the place had been the same as it always was. And that morning, stepping through the doors, she was met with _pink_.

Clawhausers desk was an explosion of the color, from streamers to snow globes to heart shaped confetti. Darks and lights and dusty and salmon, hanging from every which way, cluttering up the area and spreading around the other spaces, making its way wrapped around the stair banisters up and downstairs to the ceiling where tiny red hearts spun along with the warm air blasting out of the vents.

Her jaw hung low, she sidled forward with all the confidence of a skittish deer.

"... What the…"

"Judy!" She was spotted faster than she could have run off, Benjamin popping up from where he had been collecting more pink decoration in a box under the desk. "Oh goodness! I forgot it was your first year here!" He gestured around proudly. "Like the new look?"

"... _What_ …" She blinked, trying her very best to see past the burst of bright and cheery, but only seeming to catch more with each second. "... How did you…"

"Oh I've been doing this for _years_! Ever since I got the job!" He dropped a Cupig onto his desk, flicking at its head and watching it bobble, little arrow pointing down at the Rabbit below. "I've gotten too good at decorating for the holidays. _Especially_ this one!"

"... It's February 1st…" Judy pointed out numbly. "It's… it's not even a _holiday_ …"

"Don't be silly! Of course it's a holiday! The month of _love_! Gazelle's already put out her new song about it! " Another few streamers found their way over the side. "And in two weeks it'll be _the best Holiday of all time_!"

"... wha-"

He let out a guffaw, leaning over the desk, teeth flashing under the bright halogens above. " _Valentine's Day_ , you goof!"

Judy just blinked some more. _Valentine's Day_? She'd never really celebrated it. _No one_ had. So she'd assumed, really, truly assumed, that no one else did either. Then again it hadn't escaped her that the bus ride to work had been a little bit more… _red_ and the walk from her stop to work had been one heart display in the shop windows after another. But that had just been for _sales_. It was _always_ for sales.

But apparently, unlike the burrows, this wasn't going to be the case.

"Sooo… is the silence a good thing or a bad thing?" She'd completely lost herself in all the pink, and Clawhauser's voice snapped her back. She jerked to attention, mouth opening and closing.

"Uh… It's uh… it's…" He raised a brow, waiting hopefully. "It's _great_ ," she strained, doing her best to push the words out of bared teeth. "It's… it's _a lot_."

"It is, isn't it!" He crowed, spinning a full circle on his wheely chair before catching himself on the counter. He grabbed a heart shaped donut from a box that had been hidden behind two large cardboard Valentines Day Cards of Gazelle. "Don't worry though" I have more! By tomorrow, you won't even _recognize_ the place!"

"I already don't…" she muttered, making her way towards the bullpen.

There was a flash of relief that sparked through her as soon as the entry way was visible before her, and she bounded in, ready to escape the strange place she'd found herself in. But as soon as she made her way into the room her heart sunk in defeat. Apparently the cheerful cops decorating skills knew no bounds. The ceiling was lined with red and pink hearts, the chairs covered in nautiously dainty doilies, and the evidence board had been framed in a lace border.

And the oddest thing of all- not a single person seemed to notice.

Cops arm wrestled, goaded one another and shouted jibes across the room without even seeming to realize what kind of a place they were now seated in. She hopped onto her chair, almost slipping back against the doily, her soft feet (always an issue on slick floors and wet surfaces) not gaining an ounce of friction on its hazardously tasteful wiles. Next to her McHorn watched her nose wrinkle as she gave the cutesie thing a little vengeful kick.

"Sometimes I forget you're new," the Rhinoceros chortled.

"How can you stand all this stuff!" She picked it up between two fingers, holding it out by a long arm like it was going to jump back and bite her at any moment. It swayed softly back and forth with a disgusting amount of elegance.

McHorn just snorted. "Clawhauser likes Valentine's Day."

"Likes?"

"Aw, don't be too hard on him! Besides, we don't mind it." He puffed out his huge chest. "My wife and I are already planning a vacation for the 14th! Chief just approved my absence."

Judy smiled before throwing the doily onto the table. "That's so nice! I didn't even know you were married!"

"Oh yeah, at least half of us here are. Right Francine!"

"Too right, John!" The Elephant waved her trunk in salutations. "Me an' my wife are gonna be goin' out ta dinner!"

Her partner, a Tiger named Tony Rayures, slapped her on the back. "Ooh! You an' Susan paintin' the town red!"

"Oh shut it, you! Aren't you an' yer wife gonna do something!"

Tony crossed his arms, smiling like a loon. "You bet! Already talked to the in laws! They're taking the cubs for the night. I'm gonna get lucky all over!"

The bullpen fell into hoots and yowls of approval, Judy's own applause and chiming laughter drowned out by the volume of it all. She stuck her ears close to her head to protect them, but it hardly pulled down her smile. "Rumor has it," a Wolf named Bud Meneo added after the noise had died down, "the Captain's doing something that night too…"

There was a low _oooooh_ , everyone looking around at one another, eyes waggling at the conspiracy.

"The Chief's married?" Judy cocked her head.

"No one knows!" Tony leaned forward. "Hasn't _ever_ talked about his personal life. But you know how it is when you put a group of detectives into one room. Eventually someone's gonna try to figure something out…"

"Like you're gonna ever find out!" Francine guffawed, and the room fell into laughter again.

Bogo's entrance into the room and his bellowing of "EVERYBODY SIT!" had them once again quieting. Judy couldn't help but notice that the Chief barely blinked at his podiums newfound pink cloth dressing draped over the whole thing. She assumed he must have known what he was doing when he hired Clawhauser, pink doilies included.

Their briefing was started, and everyone was given tasks. She walked away with a new assignment in hand (not parking duty, though she wouldn't have called a Giraffe Fundraiser Parade any better) and an odd sinking sort of feeling in her gut. Maybe it was all the pink. But looking around, she realized that while it was a little _much_ , it wasn't _bad_. She didn't hate the color. She _liked_ it. And while the holiday was a little pointless, she and her family had at least done _something_ on that day, no matter how small.

… Maybe that was more it…

Everyone seemed to have someone. Hell, even Bogo, shrouded in the secrecy that he prided so much, _might_ have had someone to go home to.

Judy wasn't looking for a relationship. Not now, at least. There was no need…

… But walking to the station to grab a new, charged radio, she couldn't help but wonder what her parents and siblings were doing right then. Most likely putting out candy and little heart shaped candles. Maybe they'd watch a movie all together, or have a snowball fight that they'd lose. Maybe they'd even win that year.

… Maybe…

She shook her head, waving at a few coworkers milling around the water station before grabbing a radio and sticking it into her belt. She had work to do, and she couldn't sit around thinking about stupid holidays that city's took way too seriously.

* * *

When Wilde called her she was still on duty. But she didn't hang up right away. His landlord had said something _particularly_ nasty about Foxes and he'd needed to vent. So she let him, responding with sympathetic hums and a few angered words towards the woman in question.

She had once heard a popular girl from school preach that your friends enemies became your enemies. Judy had thought it a fine load of bull hockey. She judged people individually, not by what someone else thought. And then she'd actually gotten a real friend, and that opinion went down the drain.

"I'm telling you, Judes, it's because I'm a Fox!"

"I believe you!"

"This lady's _nutso_!"

"She sounds awful. She _is_ awful!"

"You're telling me." He was washing dishes, and she could hear the silverware clanking about the bottom of the sink in fury. It was an odd thing, to be sure. When she was a child she had always imagined Foxes as red devils with horns hidden somewhere behind their strange and large ears. She hadn't really gotten to picturing them the way she had walked in on Nick, long sleeves of his winter clothing rolled up to his elbows, wrist deep in suds, a dish towel draped over his shoulder. It had been domestic and oddly endearing, and she found that the more she remembered _that_ , the less and less she could remember what her parents had past instilled. It was impossible, she was noticing, to think much of a devil when he offered to clean up your plate. "You'd think a Fox cursed her family or something. Which we'd _never_ do, by the way."

"Oh really? And here I thought that's all you did."

"Hardy har. Aren't we the comedians today."

"I'm learning from the best!"

"You are indeed." The water turned off, the pitter patter of his paws flicking off drops onto the counters and floors seizing the silence in the background. "Where are you anyway?"

"Work. You knew that."

"Right. Forgot." A dish landed on the drying rack, bumping into its neighbor, making a light _clink_ when they kissed. "Wait... you're calling me from work!"

"Technically, you called me."

"But you picked up!" She could hear the amazement and vanity dripping. " _On a shift_!"

"You know I could just hang up." She hoped he didn't miss the salt in her tone. "You're right. I can't be talking to you right now."

"But you are!" he pointed out smugly. "You're talking to me."

"Yeah, but I'm not _supposed_ to be."

"Don't you feel like such a rebel though? I always knew you were a rule breaker at heart."

"I'm not a rule breaker, Wilde."

"I know, and it's such a shame, really. You would've made a _fantastic_ con man."

"Isn't it con woman?"

"I'm all for gender equality."

"Yes, Nick. Great use of feminism. We can all con people equally."

"That's the spirit!"

She snorted against the coffee cup in the hand currently not juggling a phone, doing her best to look serious as the first few floats went by. From behind her a crowd had gathered against the metal rails they'd set up, waving flags back and forth in the air. Children on top of their parents shoulders were either screaming in joy or crying their eyes out, faces caked with old tears and snot. It was frigid outside despite the brighter than sin sun up in the sky (a nice change from all the heavy grey that had been going on lately) and she wiggled her toes against the freezing ground.

One thing she'd had to become wary of when she'd moved to Zootopia had been how she'd move about. Soft footed creatures were born with delicate skin covered in tufts of fuzz, and the most of them had grown up in environments meant to accommodate for it -grass and dust and fields. These animals were not really meant to be making drastic switches over to gravel and glass shards and the freezing, unprotected land of cities. Which had been, so far, a fun experience that she'd never be able to forget.

It had been a trip for everyone when Wilde had discovered her on a Friday night in her room after days of limping about and refusing her mother's less than gentle instructions to go to the hospital. She's had fallen after soaking the things in antiseptic, hadn't been able to move, and had come to the conclusion that staying on the dirty floor, while not ideal, was going to be her only course of action. In reality the entire thing wasn't _so_ bad, and it wasn't as if she was the first Bunny in the world to suffer it. It was a fairly common and easy to fix ailment. But it looked far worse. Even she knew that. Knew that mammals less acquainted with Rabbit's wouldn't see past the bloody red footprints scuffed across the hardwood. Nick had been about as furious as she'd ever seen him, snarling through serrated teeth about idiots and stupidity and stubborn, dumb bunnies before dragging her back to his apartment where she's practically been under house arrest for days, her feet dressed in thick wrappings and elevated on pillows. She's been grateful but antsy and annoyed and he'd been worried and inconsolable; all in all it wasn't an experience she was eager to repeat.

She'd taken every precaution now (not that he'd let her forget) and had made sure to double wrap her feet in the warmest muscle tapes that the exercise stores could provide. But she was still getting used to the asphalt that seemed to make its way, even now, through the thick paddings that surrounded her skin, leaving her freezing all over and miserable.

The coffee warmed her hands, and she took a sip, hoping that it would do its work. It did, but after a moment even that wore away and she was left cold again.

"You know, you can't just _call_ me during work."

"Why not? It's like I'm there with you!"

"You will be soon, Slick. Isn't that enough?"

" _Nope_! I'm gonna be with you every step of the way!" She heard him crack open a soda, the sound of clicking following behind as he poured something that sounded like his favorite dried crickets into a now clean bowl. "Just… you know… from the comfort of my warm apartment."

" _Ass_."

"Language, Officer Hopps! There are _children_ there!"

"How would you know!"

"Asked Clawhauser your schedule." There was a crunch on the other line as a few of those already dead crickets met their timely end. "Giraffe Parade, huh? Really scored high with this one!"

"First of all, it's a _fundraiser_. They're asking for donations for something." She squinted at a float moving past, creaking on old wheels. A few Giraffe doctors stood on top, waving signs in the air, their scrubs bunching under thick winter coats. "I think they might be vying for… spot replacement treatments? That sounds kind of useless."

"They don't have the rights for it?"

"No. They do. Just don't wanna _pay_." She watched another one roll past. "Oh my god… It's because one of this rich families kids wants a spot job for prom. Oh you have to be _kidding_ me."

"Hey Police lady! Get off the phone!"

"Hold on…" She turned around, blinking at a shorter giraffe wearing a green hat. "This is police work, sir."

"Is not! You're on the phone!" He glared at her. "Show some respect! This girls going through a tough time!"

"She's getting a _spot replacement! She's already covered in spots!_ "

"Talk to me when you get some, you useless Bunny!"

"GO BACK TO THE BURROWS!" Another one screeched. She hiked up her coat, flashing her taser and the lot of them shut their mouths without needing a second threat.

"Look… I have to go."

There was a pause on the other end. She heard him swallow, but he didn't take a second bite. "You want me to come down there? I can take care of those jerks."

From behind her one of the Giraffes said something under his breath, and she considered making a half turn just to show him her tranq gun next. She just steeled her frown, concentrating more on the next float tossing orange and black mardi gra beads over the crowd. "Nah." she took another drag of coffee. "I'm good. I'll be fine." Not that she didn't want him to be there. She would have done _anything_ for him to have shown up. But work was work, and until he had the job, she was going to do her part and do it alone. Across the way she saw one of her coworkers wave a line of people across the street. "Besides, you know me. I'm tough as a Fox."

She could hear him smile over the other end. "Sure you are, Carrots." Another short pause. "You know you're not useless, right?"

It was her time to smile, huffing out a laugh that congealed into a fog against the nipping air. "Yeah, Wilde. I guessed that. Thanks."

"Good. Because the only one who's allowed to call you out for being dumb-"

"Is you. I know." She bounced on her toes, feeling the skin protest the action. "I'll see you later, Nick."

"Don't be afraid to use your tranq gun!"

"I'm _leaving_ now!"

"Take 'em all down, Officer Hopps! Give 'em the old _one two_!"

" _Goodbye_ , Nick."

She hung up the phone while he was still cackling into the other line, shaking her head before pocketing her device. Standing tall in the cold air, crossing her arms in front of her, she did her best to look like she was completely invested. It wouldn't matter what she was given, though. She was a cop, and a cop would do their work 110% no matter what.

* * *

One week past February 1st, the tension went from slightly peeved by giraffe parades and pink doilies to wanting to snap every single red heart hanging by a twisted ribbon in half with her bare paws. And she could do that. Because there was now an _extensive_ amount of them.

If anyone noticed, they didn't say anything. But more plausibly, no one gave a damn. Though statistically improbable, it seemed as if every person in the entire city was completely in love with the very _idea_ of love.

"I'm telling you, mom, it's like… like there's some sort of _plague_ running through here! And no one notices!"

"It's not a plague if it's romantic, dear." She could hear her mixing something in a pot, spoon leaving metallic noises where it hit against the side. "You're father and I have always celebrated it with you before. Was it a plague then?"

"No! But we didn't _celebrate_ -"

"Oh don't give me that hooey! Of course we did!"

"We lit heart shaped candles, ma."

The telltale _click click click_ of their old country stove starting up wriggled its way into the receiver, muffled through the static of weak, farmland reception. The fire finally lit, hissing to life, grumbling through the static like a broken hotel coffee maker and a bubbling radiator. There was the screech of a metal pot pushing itself over the grate. "We have more than that, sweetheart!" The spoon was at it again, mixing and clicking back and forth on the old bent sides of what she was sure had to be their old, out of shape stockpot. The one she used to help her parents with when the three of them (and too many other siblings to count) would crowd into their small, warm kitchen during winter, watching the white snow turn fall from above, mixing with the dried, cracked corn stalks. The house smelled like jams and stews for days after, and despite the urge to escape from homey, rural life, she'd been happier than she ever had been in those moments.

Inhaling deep, she tried to catch a whiff of whatever her mother was making. All she caught was the old smell of a microwave dinner, the residual pollution from outdoors and the burnt odor of the heating vents. Her chest twisted.

"We also watched all those fun movies, remember!"

"Yeah…" she smiled through a shaky sigh. "I do." Huddled together in their front room, laps and seats all occupied with Bunnies looking up at their tiny box set television blaring warm black and white into the dimly lit space.

"You _hated_ romance movies. Your sisters and brothers loved them, but you couldn't stand the things. Your father would go searching half the county just to bring home something you'd watch!"

"Phillip Marlin…" Judy laughed, sounding a great deal more forlorn than she meant to. "We'd watch noir until the sun rose!"

"You used to sneak around the house and pretend you were a detective for days! Once I got carded in the kitchen for spilling the flour! You set up a crime scene and everything! Had your brother Eddie sit in the stuff just to make a chalk outline." There were a few voices in the back, some of the younger children running in from outside. "Where are you all going!" Another few calls. Her mother let out a breath. "Okay! But be careful!"

"Where are they-"

"Snowball fight. I don't know if it's still Predator and Prey like it used to be. But I think- oh wait. Hold on." The phone scraped against the fur on her ear, and for a moment all Judy could hear was air and stove tops and new fingers, and then-

"Judy!"

The 86th youngest was talking through the reception, his little, high pitched voice squeaking excitedly, rough from laughter and running and cold. The twist in her chest decided then to take an extra leap and tear as hard as it could. She had to sit down, moving to her bed and sitting against the mattress until its springs complained. "James! _Hey_. How… how'r'ya doin' buddy!"

"Great! We're having our snowball fight now! You should see it out there! We had to come in for snacks because it's really, really snowy and cold and that makes us hungry and moms cookies are the best, you remember mom's cookies right? You've been gone so long do you remember them?"

"I've only been gone a few months, hon." He spoke a million miles an hour. But that was what James had always been like. A little dreamer, he was quick to make friends and stubborn to let go. The pint sized genius of his second grade classroom who could count by three's and the rising star of the farmhouse annual corn festival gala. He'd always looked up to Judy and wanted to be whatever she was. Not that she could see him becoming a cop (because if Nick thought _she_ was emotional, then he would have to meet the rest of them first). He'd tagged after her ever since he was born, and had always been the first to sit up with her at night, talking until his tiny head clunked against the wall and she'd had to carry him back to his own bed, slung over her shoulder. Even now, she was barely able to get a word in, but when she did she found that she couldn't stop smiling. "So, who's winning this year?"

"Oh they are. We're doing Predator and Prey again, so it's us Bunnies and Sheep against a few Jaguars and Foxes. The Jaguars are easy to get though since they're not too good in the snow. I got a book from the library that said that Jaguars are actually meant for warmer weather so why do they live here? Anyway, the Foxes are the best and they're really fast and the book also said that their bones are less dense. What does dense mean?"

"Heavy."

"Yeah! So they just run super, _duper_ fast and they slither everywhere and even though their tail pops up they're really good hiders and Sam from down the street, he's a Fox too, he did a nosedive into the snow and hid and it was so _scary_ but also _so cool_ like those horror movies mom says i shouldn't watch but i do, and dont tell her that i do, okay and I wish I could do that! Do you know any Foxes there?"

She laughed, full bodied and strong. "You know, I do! One of them is going to be on the force with me."

" _Really_!"

"Mmhmm. My partner."

"No _way_! You're going to partner with a _Fox_! Is he a nice Fox? Grampa says that there are no nice Foxes and mom and dad never talk about it, but I've met a few even though we're not allowed to talk and some of them are mean but there are mean Bunnies too. Is he nice?"

" _So_ nice. And really _fast_."

"Cool!" Sometimes she had to wonder how the tyke didn't pass out from all the breath wasted in every sentence. It was one of nature's miracles, she supposed. "Next week is Valentine's Day, by the way."

Well wasn't that just _fantastic_. Apparently not even she could be spared from the wrath of her younger brother. "That's right. It is."

"Are you coming home?"

Judy's face fell against her palm, and she had to take a few deep breaths. Her heart gave a final few tugs, and she could've sworn that she felt it stall for the merest of seconds. "Um… no. No, sorry, bud. I'm not."

"But you haven't been home in _so long_!"

"I know. I know, it's been a while. But hey! I'll be back sooner than you think! Maybe in spring, okay? Before the first few carrot sales! We can load up the back of dad's truck together."

"Okay." A beat. "I'm gonna go! They're starting again! If you bring your Fox friend next winter can he help us win the snowball fight!? You and him on our team would win for sure!"

"Yeah. I'll ask him. I'm sure he'd be flattered."

"Thanks Judy! Happy Valentine's Day! I love you!"

Her throat gave a little mewl. "I love you too," she spoke past it, hoping above all hopes that he hadn't heard. He hadn't, because soon enough he was shouting something at his siblings to _wait up_! and hurrying on his way. The phone was passed again, and her mother was back on.

"They all miss you, honey."

"Yeah mom. I know."

"Come home soon, okay? We'll pay for your train ticket and everything! And you won't have to worry about-"

"Mom, it's fine. I can pay for my own ticket. I just… I'll need to request off in advance. It's really busy here, especially around now. Parades aren't gonna protect themselves, you know?"

"I know." She knocked the spoon on the rim of the pot. "We miss you, dear. And we love you. Don't take too much out on the holiday. You did always like it, you know."

"I know, mom." The interrupting _beep beep beep_! of a call coming through had her looking down at her screen, the telltale selfie of herself and a russet familiar flashing into view. "Hey, I have another call. I'll talk to you later!"

"I love you!"

"I love you too, mom!"

The kitchen and the warmth and the siblings were gone before she felt like she was ready enough to lose them, cutting herself off as she had too many times before with the swipe of a button. Everything inside of her ached and pained in a way that she was far too used to, but also oh so not ready for. Wilde's voice, however, did the trick as it always had to rub honey into every wound.

"Carrots! Long time no talk!"

"You call me _every day_ , Nick!" _Traitor_ , she could hear her heart beat angrily up at her smile, who just widened in response.

"A minor detail! Listen, there's this pub on the other side of town owned by a buddy of mine. We did some deals in the past… not ones that you have to know about, of course…"

"I'm off duty."

"I'm still going to wait until you're a few drinks in to mention them. Anyway, he's offering me a few glasses in return for my… services. Scratch my back kind of deal. Guys got the best pale ale in the whole city."

"Does he now?" She got off the bed, moving to her desk. She'd been organizing the space the night before, writing down the names of open cases and the people involved on small, pink notecards (the only ones that were apparently on sale at the corner store down her street). Maybe if she at least found a lead, Bogo would be less reluctant to let her join on. She shuffled them around, watching the ink scratches flash up at her. "Best in the _whole city_?"

"Would I make things up, Judes! Really, you insult me."

"Mmhm. Sure."

"Anyway, I can be at your place in fifteen, and I think that maybe we can hit the bar, knock back a few and then get back to my place for an oldies marathon. I hear that they're finally bringing back some of the classics! Catsablanca's showing at 11! I can tell you now that if you thought that movie was good, it's so much better drunk."

There were days, Judy had to tell herself, that she was genuinely glad she had met Nicholas Wilde. She'd always had at least a few friends. Most never stayed very long, but the ones that had she had thought were at least keepers. And then there was Nick. The one who called every day and knew just what he had to say even when he didn't know what was happening on the other line.

Her life was a metaphorical snowball fight between Predator and Prey, and he was the stable in it all. The one that ducked through the snow and dragged her into hiding along with him.

"You know… My brother was asking about you." She said it without much thought, and she heard Nick pause on the other side, almost picturing the way that his mouth pulled up in a quirky grin, ears tilting this way and that.

"Really?"

"Yeah…" she hummed. "Well, I mean, I told him that you were my partner first. And I didn't tell him a lot at all. My parents wouldn't… I mean… it's not like I _can't_ tell them who you are but- I mean… I _will_! But they're just… "

"Carrots. It's fine."

"Right. Right. Anyway, after that he asked about you. The kids at the farm have this _huge_ snowball fight every year. And it's really great. I mean, when I was a kid I used to be one of the best! Taking out villains right and left! I was the superstar of the field!" She mimicked throwing one, one eye closed tight, mouth turned upward in glorious remembrance.

"Yeah," she heard him chuff. "Somehow I believe that."

"They're losing again this year. So my brother thinks if he had you on his team… "

"Your brother hasn't even _met_ me, Judes. He doesn't realize that the can of worms is gonna open up onto an unathletic jerk with a past. "

"Aw come on! Haven't you ever had a snowball fight!"

"Yeah." He snorted, clicking his teeth in amused revulsion. "When I was _ten_. Con men don't snowball fight."

She huffed, leaning her hip against the desk chair. "Hasn't even joined and he's a sore loser! _Amazing_."

"Think of me more as a winner through rejection."

"But you'll miss out on so much!" Her hip gave a little bounce to push her off the desk, and in a moment she was pacing back and forth across the floor of the tiny apartment, free hand moving wildly as she spoke. "Winters at the farm are the _best_! We make food and sit together at night and watch those old detective movies. And then we lose at snowball fights! Or house has this huge fireplace in it, too. It's part of the reason my parents bought it. And I read in front of their for _hours_. And you could see all the stars at night and-!"

" _Bo-ooo-ring_!" The proclamation hit sensitive ears and she flinched back, wide eyed, taking a moment to glare at the phone.

"Hey! We are _not_ -"

"You Burrow people are all the same!" It sounded like he'd flopped down onto his couch, and the _tick tick tick_ (so much like an old country stove) let her know that his feet had been propped up, claws scraping at wood. "We city folk aren't as… _quaint_."

"We aren't _quaint_!"

He ignored her, going on as if he were talking the Gods back onto their mountain top. "Here in the _city_ , we just pop our collars and go right into the cold. It's why we're tougher."

"Hey! We're tough too!"

" _Please_. You wanna be tough, Hopps? Try navigating China Town in under five minutes. And by the way, we don't have a huge fireplace. You know what that's called here? Alcohol. The _natural_ way to warm up.

"Anyone ever tell you that you're charming?"

"I aim to please!"

She laughed, shaking her head, ears flopping about, hitting her lightly against the back of the neck. "All right city-man. When are you picking me up."

He almost fell off the couch with how fast he moved. "I can be there in twenty minutes! But if I speed-"

"Don't speed, Wilde! Are you kidding me! Do you know who you're talking to! "

"Fine, boring-bunny. See you in twenty."

"Oh shut up."

His cackling was loud and lofty, and he said a few more things, all with the same message between the lines, left for her to read - _you know I'm teasing, you dumb bunny_ \- and for that, Judy Hopp's was grateful. Because the entire thing had made her emptier. Talking about snowball fights, farms, fires and brothers that missed you… a plug had been uncorked and more of her insides were mercilessly scooped away.

Outside her window a couple had begun to stroll down her street, unbothered by the cold, singing L-O-V-E at the top of their lungs.

She dropped her phone onto the bed and face planted into her quilt, screaming a muffled string of colorful words into downy.

"I hate Valentine's Day," she intoned grimly after she'd come up for air.

She'd go out for drinks with Wilde, and he'd drink more than his fair share, getting far louder and more affectionate for it. And after she'd torn him out of a hug, called him a cab and told him, waving away his quiet, wobbly whines, that she _wouldn't_ be able to hang out that night, she'd left alone. His car was still there, but he could pick it up the next day. And she knew that he'd probably forget what had happened by the time he woke up. But she also knew that he'd have questions. Because though plans often did change, and it wasn't the first time she'd had to cancel something, it wasn't normal for her to act that way.

But the pit in her chest hadn't wanted to disappear, and no matter how much she'd tried, drinks wouldn't do it either.

She'd gone to sleep empty and raw and pickled, listening to the sirens outside blaring on.

The next morning she'd woken up to a text from Nick.

 _Thanks for the cab. Couldn't walk straight. Head is killing me now._ Another buzz a moment later, and she could sense the odd tone of curiosity… maybe even rejection that passed through. _Thought you'd have stayed over?_ Because after they went drinking like that she _always_ did. She didn't like to leave him alone when he'd taken off more than he could chew, and it had become a habit to sleep the night. She knew where the spare quilts were (they were beginning to smell like her) and where the veggie snacks he'd picked up especially for her were in the kitchen. There was a spare toothbrush in his medicine cabinet, a uniform hidden in the bottom of one of his drawers. But that night… she'd needed to be alone.

She was quick to type out _sorry, couldn't. Had to work early_ , and then turned her phone over. It was already six thirty, and she'd be late for work if she stayed in any longer. So after dressing and pinning her suddenly heavy badge to her chest, she'd gone in to keep the city safe once more.

* * *

The next few days were filled with Predators screaming at her, bad case files and hopeless leads. She was still a token on the force, Clawhauser continued his decorating and everyone began to pack up for their romantic getaways.

Her siblings would call her once a day to find out when she was coming home.

Nick would call her once a day at first, and then twice after she stopped picking up. After she stopped wanting to talk to anyone.

 _You okay_? he'd texted her. _Talk to me, Dumb Bunny._

She waited for her phone to run itself down and then conveniently lost the charger. And for a few hours she stewed in blissful, awful, lonely silence.

* * *

February 7th was as dismal as she had thought it to be.

First, she'd awoken to the flashing light of her phone. Thinking it was Nick telling her about some sort of escapades or asking her to pick up his laundry, she'd looked at it to find three missed calls from her mother. She'd called her back right away, but there hadn't been an emergency, only a few of her younger siblings who had so badly missed their older sister Judy that they'd practically sobbed their eyes out wanting her to come home.

" _I love you, Judy_!" the final words had been spoken through a wobbly lip and a sleepy yawn. "Come home soon!"

Then, to make matters worse, an Elk had stood outside her apartment with a boombox over his head, blasting the latest Gazelle song and shouting "Sharon" over and over again.

"What are you doing!" She'd torn open her window, flinching back with a yelp of surprise at the strong push of freezing wind that assaulted her. "It's _five in the morning_!"

"I NEED TO TALK TO SHARON!" The Elk barely gave Judy a second glance, turning the sound up. "SHARON, BABY! COME BACK TO ME!"

" _You need to turn that off immediately, sir!_ "

"I ain't listening to you! SHARON! SHARON CAN YOU HEAR ME! HEY, BUNNY LADY! CAN YOU TELL SHARON TO OPEN HER DOOR! SHE'S THE RACOON ON THE THIRD FLOOR! TELL HER THAT PAUL SAYS HE'S SORRY THAT HE SLEPT WITH SHEILA FROM RECEPTION!"

Judy fumbled with the drawer in her nightstand, holding her badge out the window. " _ZPD! I could arrest you for disruption!_ "

"Can't put a lock on my heart, Bunny Lady! _SHARON I LOVE YOU_!"

Judy was very close to strangling someone when, from the floor above her- "PAUL! PAUL IS THAT YOU? YOU SON OF A BITCH!"

"SHARON PLEASE! IT'S ALMOST VALENTINE'S DAY! AND I LOVE YOU!"

"WELL WHY DON'T YOU TELL THAT TO SHEILA FROM RECEPTION!"

"SHE DON'T MEAN NOTHING TO ME, BABY! SHE'S JUST A THING THAT HAPPENED!"

"WELL _THIS_ THING ISN'T HAPPENING BECAUSE OF _THAT_ THING!"

"SHARON PLEASE! GIVE ME ANOTHER CHANCE!"

" _Can you be quiet! I can arrest you both and then you'll have something to talk about in court!_ "

"HEY! BUNNY LADY! THIS IS YOUR UPSTAIRS NEIGHBOR THE PANTHER! DON'T SHUT THEM UP! OR I'LL EAT YOU!"

"Sir, that's a really terrible thing to say to a Police Offi-"

"OH MY GOD IS THAT PANTHER AT IT AGAIN! JUDY HOPPS, THIS IS MISSUS WILLABY FROM DOWN THE HALL! TELL HIM HE OWES ME MY SUGAR TIN BACK!"

" _YOU WANT IT SO BAD YOU COME GET IT, YOU OLD BAT_!"

"I'M A WALLABY!"

"YOU'RE A _COOT_!"

"PAUL LEAVE ME ALONE!"

"BUT SHARON BABY! MY HEART KNOWS NO BOUNDS! I WANNA SWEEP YOU AWAY! I WANNA TAKE THE MOON DOWN FROM THE SKY FOR YA!"

"I'LL TELL YA WHERE YOU CAN SHOVE THAT MOON!"

" _GIVE IT TO HIM, SHARON!_ "

Judy slammed her window closed after it became too much and decided, when sleep was no longer an option, that perhaps she should just let things lie where they were. She got dressed with her ears pinned back in an attempt to keep out the noise and left out the back door of her apartment building.

Work was no better. There were filed reports from all over the city about cheating husbands, bad flower deliveries, stolen jewelry and diamond rings gone missing. And though none of them were even in their jurisdiction, most were passed on through Bogo and went straight to Judy.

At 8 a.m. she told a mammal hoping to propose to his girl that _no_ he couldn't have a city permit to authorize a flashdance on top of a major construction site. He'd called her a prude pig and had more or less slammed the door in her face.

At 10:34 she was explaining to a distraught woman that although she _might_ have every reason to believe that her husband wasn't faithful, it wasn't the job of the cities finest to look into her case. "You really do hate love, don't you?" the woman had sniffed, before turning her back on Judy with a few colorful words.

At 1 p.m. when she was _meant_ to be off eating lunch, she was instead starving, cranky and telling two horny teenagers who had been caught with their pants around their ankles behind a local library that they had to get out _now_ and that public displays of affection were fine _but there was a limit_. "What! You never been in love, lady!" One of them, a testy Cheetah with a glare for miles asked her, snorted at her, zipping up his pants.

"That doesn't matter, sir," she'd drawled, hoping that he felt the way the ground shook at her stomach's next growl. "What matters is you get out before I book you."

"Let's go, babe," his girl had tugged him by the paw with her own. "She's just _Prey_ anyway. I bet she's scared we'll bite her head off."

For some reason that had stuck the most, but she'd shaken it off and thanked them numbly for their cooperation.

But it wasn't until 2 in the afternoon, when her Father had texted her a lovely little _I love you, Jude the Dude! So proud of you! Hope to see you soon!_ that she really snapped.

Her phone ringing had been just about the final straw. In her cruiser nearing the end of shift, wanting nothing more than to go home, she'd answered it with a curt "Judy Hopps. ZPD. Can I help you?"

"Ooh! What! No introduction this time? No little pun? Usually there's something more when you answer th-"

" _What do you want, Nick_?"

"Well, I was hoping for some quality customer care? Maybe service with a smile!" There was a crunch of wind hitting the speaker. He was outside.

"Look, I really don't have time for this today." It was freezing in the car and her coat had been long forgotten at the station, hung up in the boardroom. She fiddled with the dials only to find that the vents were broken. She slammed her fist on one of them, and almost yelped when her finger caught against the grating. " _What do you want_!"

A long pause. She could hear him tilting his head. "... You okay, Judes?"

"I'm _fine_ ," she'd hissed. "Just _peachy_."

Listening back on herself in that moment, perhaps she too would have cringed back. Judy was not a Rabbit of much anger, and most emotions, if any, were of the passive variety. She was a person who was happy, sad, thoughtful and energetic. She worked on a scale of extremes. So, looking over it again, perhaps it was only natural that one of those extremes _was_ of the furious variety. But she'd never experienced it to a degree such as that to really compare. And if she'd gone back… if she'd given herself a comparison… maybe she would have apologized and held back and taken a few breaths before doing much else.

But she didn't.

Because by then she'd been hollowed enough to fit the world twice over, and she wasn't going to do anything until it was all gone.

"Judy? Do you need something? Because you sound _super_ peeved and-"

"What! I'm not _allowed_ to be peeved!?" She could hear the way he startled backward at the same time she did, the both of them taken aback by the explosion. And she had to sit for a moment, blinking out of the windshield. It had been snowing all day, and the world was once again covered in a greyish sludge. His surprise, her shock, the ugly reality of a city in winter… Her fading fury grew again.

"What? No! That's not what I-"

"You're the only one _allowed_ to be angry now?" Another few flakes of grey landed on the glass. From outside someone shouted something about _cute little Bunnies_ when they meandered past. She grit her teeth. "Because you're a Predator? Is that it? Because I'm just a little Bunny? Because Prey can't be _mad_?"

"I didn't say that!" He was growling now- a steady reverberation flowing through each word. Seeing red and white all at once, hardly able to hide the snarl. " _You're_ the one who's been ignoring _me_ all week! Don't bring _Predators_ into this!"

" _I am so done, Wilde_! You must think that because I'm so _weak_ -"

"I never- _you're putting words into my mouth_!"

"It's about goddamn time, right? Probably needed to say all those things a while ago!"

"Stop it!"

"No!"

"What's _wrong_ with you!"

"Nothing's _wrong_ with me! I'm just… I'm _angry_!"

"At what!"

"At _you_! Now either figure out how you're going to end this conversation or leave me alone! Just-! _Just_ -!" She scrubbed at her forehead, leaving behind marks from dulled nails. " _Just go away, Wilde_!"

"Judy, come _on_! You're being a complete-"

"A complete _what_? A _Dumb Bunny_? Is _that_ what you were going to say?"

"Hey! You're the one who called it!" He was mad too. Furious. Snarling most likely. She could almost picture his lips pulled back, fangs gleaming. And somehow… somehow that was just _it_ … She was done being scared. Done being made to be scared of things that could hurt her. Done with things _hurting_ her. Done with things _hurting_.

"God! Just… just _shut up, Nick_ and _leave me alone_!"

He'd been about to say something else, about to _scream_ back something. But she hung up before he could. Wishing for once that she'd been in the office where all they had were wire telephones so she could have slammed the thing down with brute force. So instead she just pounded her hands onto the steering wheel until she could feel every ounce of anger leaving her body. Until it boiled over and filled again, and the windows of the car were steamed up with huffs and colorful language and a few creative curses at the universe.

Nick would call her twice even though she didn't think he would have called at all. And somehow that just made her angrier.

She ignored them both times, shutting her phone off, not caring about the alarm for the next morning or the emails that would no doubt pile up. She'd sleep after two glasses of red wine and a microwave dinner for one that was poked at more than eaten. She wouldn't dream. She wouldn't care.

And when she did wake up, turning on her phone at 5 a.m. on February 8th, she'd find six missed calls from her family, four more from her best friend and a text from said Fox that just read _let's talk this out, Judes. Call me later. I love you_.

She had to leave for work at six. So from that time until then, she'd turn her head into her pillow and soak it through with tears.

* * *

The afternoon of February 14th was an abysmal one.

Dark and dreary outside, the rain fell, mixing with leftover slush and turning it into something akin to dollar store slushies of sewage and car exhaust. Her neighbors had decided to really go at it, and had been banging the headboard of their bed against her wall for the past few hours, taking occasional breaks to scream at one another across the small space. He'd forgotten to buy her flowers or something like that.

Outside, couples strolled down the street with interlocked hands, sharing umbrellas that cut through the gray with bright and cheery colors. A mother and her child stopped somewhere outside of her apartment, the elder bending down to fix the buttons of the smallest heart riddled raincoat before they were off again, the child splashing in puddles and shrieking in joy.

She got a few calls from her mother, telling her that her father had actually been able to find Phillip Marlin under a stack of old Christmas decorations in their cellar.

"Are you sure you can't come home, sweetie?" she asked her daughter. In the background a few of the smaller of the family screamed her name through giggles.

"Hey! Jude the Dude!" Her father snuck up behind his wife, calling into the receiver. "Is she coming home? Tell her I found her favorite Valentine's Day movie!"

"Already told her, dear."

"And we got the candles and the candy out. Lucy's already eaten half her weight. Don't know how the girl can hold that much. Won't ask too many questions though!"

"Are you coming home, dear?" She heard her mother push her father away, laughing at something he said. "We do miss you, and we'd really love it if you could! Just for a day or two!"

"You _know_ I can't, ma. Tomorrows gonna be a really busy day at the precinct. Vengeful couples, you know how it is."

"Of course I _know_! But can't they go without you for a day or two?"

"Fraid not, ma…"

"Okay…" There was a sadness in her mother's voice. One that she knew far too well. She'd been warned of course, and the stereotypes were clear enough in their blatant truths. Bunnies never left the burrows. Not that Bunnies _hadn't_ in the past. But there was an expectation: You lived well enough, did good enough and stayed to have children, farm carrots and leave with a respectable image in your wake. _You're going to break your families heart_ , people had told her too many times to count. _Leaving home like that? It isn't natural. Family comes first. Family always comes first_.

It was hard to explain to people that family would always be most important when their memory of it was a close knit, never leave, pass on the business kind of ideal. She had broken a long tradition of picture perfect. She'd broken it the moment she was old enough to know what she wanted to do, really. Because there was no way that she'd ever have been happy living out their dream.

… Unfortunately that came with its tradeoff. And her parents tentative support along with her own successes were matched against the niggling thoughts that perhaps she just didn't care enough about what mattered anymore.

"You know that I love you guys, right mom?" She scrubbed at her face, trying to hide the catch in her voice. "I really do wish that I could be there."

And, if there was any relief left in this horrible day, it came in the form of her mother saying, "of _course_ I know that, dear." She let out a whooshing breath, wanting to cry more than ever. "Do you at least have plans?" she asked her daughter. "You're not going to be alone today, right?"

"Mom…"

" _Please_ tell me you're not alone today, sweetie-"

"I'm not." She wasn't really sure who the lie was for. Herself or her mother. Either way, it came out with a tight lipped smile and a shivering breath. She'd always been a lousy liar. "My… my friend and I are just going to… hang out… Or something."

"A friend!"

"Not a good one or anything. Just… a new friend." _Because I treated the only one I had so well_. "We're going to… go out…" _And by that I'm going to stay in and eat a microwave dinner for one_. "I'll have a fun time, mom. I promise." _I'm going to cry all night and tomorrow everything will be better. But for now I'm sorry for lying._ "I miss you." _So damn much. And I didn't think this move would be this hard. And I haven't seen my family in far too long._ "And… I'll come home soon." _I just want to come home. Please ask me one more time. Because if you do, I might not be able to say no_.

But her mother didn't ask again, and so she stayed where she was, sitting in her tiny apartment in a city that seemed to hate her more by the second. "Well, we can't wait to see you! And have fun with your fr- _Lucy stop eating those!_ I'll see you later, sweetheart, alright? We love you! Happy Valentine's D- _Put down the chocolate, Lucy_!"

The line went dead.

Outside a police car screamed through the roads. The wall next to her shook, the couple once more done fighting about gardenias and roses, choosing to let out their anger in a more recreational way. Her ears had long pinned themselves back, but they flattened almost painfully.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Judy…" she said into the dark room.

"YOU'RE PATHETIC!" one half of the couple screamed at the other through the thin wall.

"Yup," Judy answered. "Couldn't agree more."

"Did someone say something?"

" _YOU'RE ALWAYS HEARING THINGS_!"

Judy went quiet after that. They did exactly the opposite.

* * *

There was a relief when she got a call, a few hours later, from someone besides her parents or sisters or brothers or Nick. She'd been ignoring the whole lot of them, instead deciding to go do other, pathetic, alone things that would keep her relatively happy. And so the moment her phone flashed an unfamiliar number, she'd almost been afraid to answer, sure that Nick had taken the liberty of using a con-man's trick and borrowing someone else's phone for long enough to scold her ear rightfully off.

She'd been in the middle of lugging a shopping bag filled with ice cream and cookie dough and the entire first three seasons of Gill Marsh Girls (oh god, could she have _been_ any more cliche in her depression?) when her phone began to sing out a far too loud Gazelle song. She dropped her bags by her door, shoving her paw into her pocket and dragging the thing out, furrowing her brow at the unfamiliar set of numbers.

"Hello?"

"Judy! Oh my _god_ , Judy! Is that really you?"

She gave her ice cream a little kick, watching the bag flinch and crinkle. "Um… sorry? Who's-"

"It's me! Samantha Hare!" The thick, nasally soprano should have been enough of an indicator. She had been another Bunny judy had known back in the burrows. Someone who flew with a different crowd. The ones who had worn things months before others knew they were in and paraded a new man on their arm every other week just because they'd switched the color of their handbags. Judy hadn't ever been _friends_ with them, per say. But there had been a brief kinship when she'd paired with Samantha Hare in their tenth grade science class. The girl was by no means an _idiot_ , and knew her way around a bunsen burner. But it wouldn't have worked out between them. The moment after she'd put down the tongs and let ears free from their bulky goggles, she'd picked up her lipgloss and told everyone else in her small pack that she didn't know the first thing about any of it.

Judy was just a convenient friend to have when the grades were needed. And Judy, who wasn't really one for friends at all, was completely fine with the arrangement.

And then she'd left and Samantha had gone off to do her own thing, and she didn't think she'd have had to think about any of it ever again.

Shows how weird this week had been…

"Um? Samatha? Hi? How did you-"

"How'd I get this number? Oh that was _easy_! I just asked one of your neighbors! You're all over the news, Judy! Did you know that!? Your _famous_! I have a famous friend! I've always _wanted_ a famous friend! Oh, you should have _seen_ how green Melody W. turned when I told her that! Anyway, I knew one of them and they had you on their phone because you gave them all your number! Why would you _do_ that by the way?"

"I'm a police officer." She rubbed at her brow, pinching the bridge of her flat nose. "In case of emergencies. They're not supposed to… _they just gave you my number_?" Looking down the hall she glared at the door. It _must_ have been Mr. Gristle. That Warthog could _not_ keep his gossip to himself. Or maybe Ms. Oyster…

"Doesn't matter! What matters is that I'm in town! Parents finally let me ditch that stupid place so I could come down here!" Her hollow spot bit a chunk out of her side, chewing it painfully, wiping its mouth on her ribs. She let in a little shiver of air, trying her best to work through it.

"You know…" Judy spoke through her teeth, her initial joy at the call wearing off quicker than it had come, "Bunny Burrows were pretty nice…"

"For _who_? You got out as soon as you could!"

"Because there wasn't an adequate police force for me to- you know what? Nevermind. Is there something you needed, Samantha?"

"Of course, silly! _You_!"

"Excuse me?" Done kicking at her bag, she went to find a way back into her lonely little hovel, fishing her keys out of her pocket. When they weren't there she cursed, looking in her bag next. "You need… me?" Wallet… pepper spray… badge…

"Duh! Of course! I wanna see the sights! Who better to ask it from then the Bunny who got away!"

"I didn't get away, Samantha," she finally found the key next to a rolled up stack of coupons for frozen yogurt that Nick had put into her purse with a little more enthusiasm than necessary. She grabbed the ring, flipping through the set (work locker… car… desk drawer…) stuffing the right one into the lock with enough force to break it off. "I just… needed a change. And I can promise you that this place isn't all that. I mean… it's great. But once you live here a while-"

"That's only because you didn't do anything to get money, Hopps! You didn't _think big_! Not like me! I plan to marry rich. Live pretty, you know? Have you considered Love Ever After? New dating site I found. It's all these old widows who have _bank_! I got an account and so far-"

"Look, Samantha, I really wish that I could help. But-"

"Nope! Won't take no for an answer!" Judy could hear her squealing on the other side at something she'd seen, a happy laugh and a few giggles pointed at what she swore were a rather rude set of cat calls all ending with _baby, what I'd like to do_! The Police Bunny winced.

"I'm just… really not into the whole… going out thing right now. It's not a good time."

"I told you I wasn't taking no for an answer! You're famous now! You can't say no!"

"I was in _one_ news article, Samantha. I'm not famous."

There was screeching as a car began to skid out on a patch of ice. In the background she heard Samantha make that same noise as before. "Watch yourself, honey!" she shouted at the driver. Judy had to close her eyes and breathe. "Whoopsy!" Samantha was back, giggling through the receiver. "Some men! Just can't watch the road! Might have something to do with this dress. Right off the rack. Just _wait_ until you see it tonight! They say its all the rage! Barely covers up my tail!"

"It's eleven degrees out!"

"Fashion is pain, sweety! Now do you have something you can wear tonight? Can't have my famous friend going around, showing me about if she's dressed like a… what did you do again? Bake? Nanny?"

"I'm a _Police Officer_."

"That's not really all that sexy. Do you have a better angle? Ooh! Are you undercover!"

"No!"

"Well tonight you are! Boys don't like girls who are too much into the whole… justice thing." Samantha must have gone inside somewhere, because the noise of the world dulled, wind and cars and voices all making way for department store music and the squeaking of wet shoes against linoleum. "Alright! I'm gonna get some makeup for tonight. Forgot half my stuff at home! _You_ need to get ready! Put on something nice, alright? Something… uh… how do I say this… Something appealing in a less _you_ way. Okay?"

"Okay, yeah, sure, but I _really_ can't-"

"See you tonight! Already have your address! Toodles!"

She hung up first, leaving Judy to stare at a blank screen for a moment with a mix of something like fear and apprehension and disgust for no one else but herself rising in her throat. She lay back, head pressed into her pillow, and stared at one of the bigger greasy stains on her ceiling.

Well… there was a chance that it could be a fun night… And if there was a chance…

Her phone buzzed twice. She flipped it over only to see Nick's name show up under a few lines of text. After a moment her mother's followed along.

That just about settled it. Shoving her phone under her pillow, hopping off the bed, she rifled through her closet. She didn't have much. She'd always been more casual in nature, but she knew that there were a few things in the back that she'd taken just in case she made friends right away and they'd asked her to go dancing (not that that happened, but a Bunny could hope). "It's Valentine's Day," she told herself under her breath, pulling out a few options and throwing them across the room onto her bed. " _You deserve this_."

And she'd keep telling herself that until maybe, just maybe, she'd begin to believe it.

Valentine's Day wasn't particularly Judy's _favorite_ holiday, and the fact that she had been an _idiot_ during that particular one didn't help at all. How in the _hell_ had she thought that saying yes to Samantha Hare - _Samantha freaking Hare!_ \- was a good idea? She almost backed out, excuses already forming on her tongue about sickness and work and a slew of other things all underlined with _leave me alone_. But the other Bunny had been relentless.

"You'll have _fuu_ uun!" Samantha had sung, waving her wallet in Judy's face, dragging her towards the cab that she'd procured. The driver, an older looking Jaguar, was tapping his hand on the steering wheel with one hand, the other one hanging out the window, the red tip of a cigarette held between nicotine burned fur. "It's about time we got you hooked up with some good looking piece of Prey. C'mon, _Judes_ " (and Judy had almost turned back around right then and there because no one, _no one_ , was allowed to call her that but her parents and Nick), "live a little!"

It was most likely the guilt that she didn't live enough that drove her to agree. But she did agree, and regretted it from the moment the word _yes_ flew out of her mouth.

So that was how, at 10 at night, she'd ended up in the back of a cab that smelled like sweat and rubber and ash, huddled in the corner as Samantha Hare fixed her makeup and chatted on about this or that, her phone over her ear, whispering in hushed panick to the person on the other side.

She'd wanted to call Nick. He always knew what to say, what to do. He would have laughed, and then he'd have told her that he'd pick her up and everything would be alright. Because even though he'd make fun of her for it for the rest of her life, in the end it was his heart of gold that he covered with every jeer.

But she couldn't. Because right now the last thing she needed was comfort and kitchens and heart shaped candles and people that missed her.

So she'd called someone else instead.

When she'd told Clawhauser about her plans he'd nearly fallen out of his chair.

" _You_!" he'd cackled, slapping at his knees, hunkered over at his desk chair. There was a squeak as the thing beneath him complained, wheels straining. " _You_ , Judy Hopps, are going _bar hopping_!"

"I really appreciate the support, Benjamin," she mumbled, ears lowering, glaring at the Jaguar, who was now busy watching Samantha in the rear view mirror with a little more of a carnal glint in his eye than she was comfortable with. "Thanks so much."

"Hey! I don't mean that I just- _oh my god_! _You_!" He wiped at his eyes, which had no doubt begun to sprout little pearls of tears, letting out a few cooing laughs. "So…" he sighed through another round of giggles, looking down at her over a donut. "You going with Nick or something? He finally convince you to live the high life? Ooh! Is he there with you! Let me talk to him-"

"Nah. Not Nick. Old… friend from high school." Next to her Samantha laughed at something the driver said, flashing her large front teeth, sticking out her chest as far as it could go.

"Not Nick?" He tilted his head, ears flattening. "Something wrong?"

"No? I have other friends, you know."

"Yeah, I know." Another tilt. "But usually you'd be going on about Nick said this and Nick said that. I swear he comes up more in our conversations than you do!" Clawhausers smile dampened, following the line of spots like constellations. "Everything okay with you two?"

"Yes!" She swallowed. "No? I don't… I don't know. I kind of… exploded at him last week. And I've been avoiding him since. So…"

"Exploded as in?"

"As in I said some things that I really shouldn't have and…" It was her turn for her ears to pin themselves back, and she felt the black tips brush the collar of her shirt. "It was stupid," she finished quietly. "It was just… I had just talked to my parents and… and he called at the wrong time…"

"You call him back yet?"

There was a lump in her throat. Which was a nice change from the emptiness at least. Something to hold onto and embrace in all the _nothing_ that had been making her feel so damn heavy. She swallowed through it, hoping that maybe it would go down her throat, fill her up again and she wouldn't have to walk around like she was an old, dying tree. But it didn't, and she still did. She shook her head. "No… I mean, he's called me. But… if he wanted to stop being friends… I don't think I can actually face that."

"Nick wouldn't do that!"

"After what I said-"

"Come on! You don't know that!" The portly mammal gave a smile that could have lit a bulb, but just made her feel weaker. "Nick would do _anything_ for you, you know that! And if anything he just wants to talk!"

"... Yeah… maybe…"

But she didn't want to _talk_. She wanted to cry and scream and apologize until the moon fell out of the sky and she could give him that wrapped in a silver bow. Because that was what he deserved. What he _always_ deserved. He was too good of a friend for her. Always had been. And there was a fear that he was realizing that. That he was quitting it all and leaving her behind because she was who she was. A Prey. And he was a Predator. And it was never meant to work out.

"Give him a call," Clawhauser's voice dragged her back, and she glanced out the window at the passing world with wide, sorrowful eyes. "It's Valentine's Day, after all. If there's anytime to say something to him, it's now!"

"Yeah… maybe…"

"Come on! We're here!"

"Huh?"

" _We're here_!" Samantha had one paw out the door, the other one hiking up the front of her dress. A strapless purple thing with enough sequins to phone in as a replacement disco ball.

"Oops! Sorry! I kept you too long!" She heard him as he shuffled a few papers on his desk, grabbing a donut in one paw to hold them down, taking another in the other paw to take a bite out of. He swallowed, and the sound took over the phone for a moment. "Call him, Judy."

 _Don't leave_! She wanted to yell. _I don't want to be here! This was a bad choice! I wanna go home! I want to see my family! I want a warm kitchen and heart shaped candles and… and… I want my friend_!

Instead she just tried her best soft smile, hoping it didn't seem too forlorn. Hoping he couldn't hear the way she strained just to do her best and not seem like she was hopelessly and completely _lost_ on the inside. "Okay… Yeah… I will. But what if-"

"Let's _go_ , Judes!"

"Did she just call you-"

"Yeah. I don't wanna talk about it." She sighed, leaning forward to slip a few dollars through the slot in the window. The cab driver took it with a nod, and she handed him back a glare. She would have told him just who he was dealing with, and just what she'd do if she saw him looking like that at women in the back of his cab again, but by then Samantha had pulled her out.

"Take care of yourself, Judy!"

They were already heading into the club before she could answer him, the noise escalating tenfold when they passed through the door. She wasn't really sure why _this_ was the place that had been chosen. It was far too loud, and her sensitive ears were pinned down to try and save themselves from eternal ringing. Her eyes, never meant for the dark, had to do her best to catch glimpses of a path through the strobe. There were too many people, dancing, drinking, grinding, in one small space, and the two of them were easily some of the smallest. Dragged across the floor, trying to see and smell and hear and not get stepped on through the hallucination that was the chaos of that place.

" _What is this place?_ " she shouted over the music at Samantha, hoping her ears could do their job and pick up the smallest of sounds. But Samantha didn't seem to want to listen at all, looking this way and that, pulling her dress up an inch at a time to show off as much leg as she could before becoming a full on nudist. " _Samantha_!"

The other Rabbit turned. " _Go get drinks_!" She gestured to a bar across the way. "I'm gonna find us some _men_!"

"But _Samantha-_!"

"It's _Valentine's Day_!" Her hands over her head, waving them around, she hopped backwards out of Judy's reach. "We're gonna get you _laid_ , girl!"

Judy watched her leave. A Predator tried to drag her onto the floor - _claws, teeth, predator, run, run, run_ \- and she scurried back, eyes huge and terrified. The Wolf that had given it a shot gave her a look and then shrugged, moving on to easier kill. She went to the bar right after and ordered two shots, downing them both. And then, just because someone shouted out something about Cute Bunnies and Prey and _what they'd do to them on the hunt_ , she ordered two more and swigged back those too.

Slapping down a few more bills she asked for fruity drinks that were the easiest to say through the beginnings of a lovely slur without really knowing what she was ordering. The Rabbit she'd come in with met her and drained her glass in two swallows. " _I've got someone in my sights_!" she giggled. " _You're gonna love them_!"

So Judy drank some more, because she did _not_ want to meet anyone, and she was sure that she'd be made to whether she wanted to or not.

Around the second man she realized she was miserable.

So she drank some more.

Around the third man she realized that she'd gotten very bad at picking up men. She was too honest. Too trusting. Too quick to walk away.

So she drank some more.

Around the fourth man, she did her best to try and be charming and so she'd told a corny joke so bad that he politely excused himself and walked in the other direction quick enough to defy physics.

So she drank some more.

Around the fifth man that Samantha had pushed her towards (a Weasel with teeth like daggers and a lecherous leer to boot), Judy realized that it was most likely the worst night of her life.

So she drank a _lot_ more.

Reasonably, though, it would get a lot worse.

* * *

It really all began around drink number six… or was it seven… or thirteen... Pinching the flute, watching the bubbles rise languidly through the thick, sugary syrup, she leaned her head into her palm and watched Samantha with her newest find. They had finally sat down, a _godsend_ really, because she was fairly sure that her poor feet weren't going to last much longer. The mammal sitting with the other Rabbit, his arm wrapped around her shoulder, was an Otter wearing a tacky white suit and a pair of useless and bulky sunglasses that did nothing in the already pitch space.

"Isn't he just _dreamy_ , Judy? He's a small business owner!" Samantha was crooning over the Otter, her hands fiddling with the deep-V shirt collar.

"Yeah… I'm working towards it. My kickstarters doin' pretty good this month."

"Really?" Judy squinted through the dark, "What is it you do?"

"Nothin' right now. Tryin' ta go on a trip or two. Gotta get out of my old womans basement, you know?"

"He's so _worldly_ ," Samantha nodded, ears flopping.

"Uh huh. Sure." Judy took a long sip of whatever drink she was holding. It was thick, and coated her tongue and throat, leaving them feeling more like Sahara Square.

"Sammara here tells me that you're famous."

"Her name's _Samantha_."

"Doesn't matter. Names are irrelevant anyway, It's our character that counts."

"He's so _wise_ …" Samantha swooned. "Isn't he _wise_ , Judy?"

The Otter ignored her, tilting his thin head, glasses sliding across his nose. "What'dya do? You a movie star or something?"

"She's _undercover_ ," the other Rabbit said. "Like a _spy_."

"I'm not a spy," Judy corrected. "I'm a Police Officer. And I'm not famous." The music went from one senseless beat to another, and the shift attacked her ears, vibrating through the too-sensitive receptors and leaving her head in shambles. She took another drink. "I was in one newspaper article a while back. That's it."

"You were in a newspaper?" The Otter scoffed. "Thought you'd be a movie star."

"Sorry… Not a movie star." She was almost done with her drink, and she swiveled what was left around in a figure eight, the legs trickling back down into the shallow pool of too-pink beneath. Someone put a drink down next to her, tried to croon something into her ear, but she waved them off, hating the attention but grateful for the alcohol. "I think most movie stars are taller, anyway."

"The star of my favorite movie is your height!" Samantha beamed. "I mean, she mostly does _adult_ films, but she's still-"

"Wait a minute…" Mr. No Names All Character cut the Rabbit off, gave her a look (though she couldn't tell through the shades) and separated his arm from Samantha, who pouted her pretty lips and began to search the floor for a new partner. "You were in the newspaper? You look familiar. And I don't read the paper or nothing." He glared. "Why do I _know_ you? What article?"

"I solved a case." She squirmed. "The… the savage case a while back. It wasn't a huge deal or anything! It was just everywhere… you know?" She didn't like the way he looked at her through his glasses. Like he needed them to see her through the fog.

"You solved a-" He actually took off his glasses. Apparently, whatever he remembered warranted the removal of the dark, unneeded accessory and she found herself looking back at a pair of sneering baby blues. " _You were in that article_! I _know_ you!"

Judy stopped swiveling her new drink, feeling the weight shift around the concave inside of the glass. "... um… Really? Because it wasn't even a _good_ article and we weren't first page or-"

"Babe!" He snatched up the Rabbit next to him again, and she preened at the return of attention. "What the _hell_ were you thinking? Bringing _her_ here!"

"Who?"

"Her! Jamie!"

"It's _Judy_ , actually" said Judy when Samantha didn't think to correct him. "And what are you-"

There was a claw in her face and she pressed back into the chair. " _You're the Rabbit_ who teamed up with a Fox!"

" _What_!" Samantha's pretty face dropped, fluttering her gargantuan eyelashes. "No! That's not- Judy tell him he's being silly. Come on, baby, let's go dancing again!"

But the Otter wasn't going anywhere, staring at Judy like he'd realized that the earth was flat: like everything he had ever known was rewritten. "You're the one who helped a _Fox_!"

"She didn't really, baby!" Samantha gave her partner a little shake, eyes darting back and forth from him to Judy, Judy to him. "It was only once! _Right_ , Judes!?"

"Stop calling me that." She didn't even spare a glance at the lovely creature of an ex-lab partner, glaring down Mr. White Suit. "It wasn't a one time thing, actually. I'm on the force. He's going to be my partner."

"That's sick! _You're_ sick!"

"And you have to be kidding me!"

"He's a Fox! He's _your Predator_!"

"Aren't _you_ a Predator?"

Mr. Indoor Sunglasses didn't seem happy to have the finger pointed at him, his ears twitching back and forth, flattening against his head. "Don't change the subject! Predator or not, there's a _Food Chain_ and when he's involved, I'm still somewhere on his plate!"

"Hey! He _wouldn't_ do that! He would never- Nick's the best Mammal I know!"

Mr. Food Chain looked ready to say something back. He didn't get the chance. "Wait…" Samantha blinked fixing huge, scared eyes on the Officer across the table. "So… so he's not kidding? You're really partners with… with a _Fox_."

There was no reason to be ashamed, she reminded herself. She _wasn't_ ashamed. But her throat felt dry, and she suddenly felt, among the eyes and music and darkness and lights and chaos, very, very small. "Yes…" she said. "Yeah. He's my… he's my friend."

The shift that occurred was undeniable. The sudden change in face and posture, like seeing a flower after the night's frost made its acquaintanceship. The Rabbit before her, all sequined and dolled and lovely as ever, slowly pulled herself up, strings of a horrified and disgusted puppeteer at work. Eyes huge, mouth thin, the lights from the strobe acted as a sort of play by play, and Judy watched in awkward fascination as the one who had moments before been parading her about slowly changed her into the antagonist of a story she didn't realize she was taking part in. "A _Fox_. You leave your family, your friends behind and you… you go with some _Fox_!"

"Nick…" Judy found herself saying, needing to at least defend his name. "His name is Nick. And… and I didn't… I mean, I never really…" _I didn't turn my back,_ she wanted to say. _I have my family, but I never had friends. You were never my friend. Not really. Not when it counted._ "Samantha, it isn't really that bad-"

"Yes it is!" The Puppeteer gave a jerk, and Samantha roared to life, pressing forward against the table. "It _is_ , Judy! What the _hell_ were you thinking!?"

"What? I… I don't… I wasn't-"

"Exactly! You _weren't_! You know, for someone so smart, you can be so _stupid_ sometimes! How could you think that this was okay!?" She pointed, and her dress followed, sequins glaring in the hazy lights and flashing, blinding Judy for the barest second. "You're turning your back on your kind!"

"No! No I'm not! Just because I'm _friends_ with Nick-"

"You're friends with scum, Judy! With a _Pred_! With someone who could _kill you_! With someone who could kill _us_! Haven't your parents taught you enough!"

"Don't bring my parents into this!" The anger that was slow to build started its steady track through her, rising like the bubbles through the syrup of the drink still in front of her. "Besides, they're doing their part now to try and actually make a change."

"So what? They accept a few Foxes. Give them a friggen medal. People get along in business _all the time_. It happens. But how do you think they'll react when I stroll back to the Burrows and tell them-"

" _Don't you dare_ "

" _Tell them that you're putting your life in the hands of a Fox_! How do you think they'll react _then_? Huh, Judy?"

"Samantha, _don't_!"

"Oh! So you _haven't_ told them!"

" _Stop it!_ "

"I told you she was no good." Mr. Know-it-All was looking too smug for anyone's good, snickering through serrated teeth. "Can't ever trust a species that leaves their own behind." And when he turned back to Judy he glared with those Tundra blue forget-me-nots like they were cauterizing every one of her flaws and branding her soul for the world to see.

She suddenly felt very cold.

"Oh my god, stay out of this!" She swat back through her teeth, pressed together like snow.

" _Don't tell him to stay out of anything!_ If it hadn't been for him, I wouldn't have figured out who I was _associated_ with. Maybe you'd be better if you actually got some real friends instead of acting like some Predators meal ticket. What? He promise not to wreck your place if you gave him a badge, is that it? Gideon Grey didn't leave good enough scars or something!"

" _Leave him alone_! Nick would _never_ -"

"He's a Fox. Of course he could. One swipe. That'd be it. And you trust him." She looked at Judy with a pity masked with abhorrence. "But really, what should I have expected from the sorry bitch who couldn't actually keep a real friend to save her life."

That stung. The words cut far deeper than any claws could, and she felt the residual backlash trickling in self loathing down her spine. But Judy had always been a fighter. And so she kept her gloves on for one last round. "At least Nick wants to be with me. At least he _cares_!" She shot back with everything she had, wanting so badly to push back with a hatred she could never have. "You _never_ cared, Samantha! I never even wanted to _be_ your friend!"

She sucked in a yelp when a splash of liquid hit her in the face. The glass she'd had in front of her now happily resided in Samantha's paw. Empty.

"You'd be _lucky_ to be friends with me." It took Judy every ounce of listening power she had to hear the low, graveling tone. Though she wasn't listening much. Just sitting there, arms spread in shock, dripping pink and sticky. "You'd be lucky to _have_ friends." When Judy didn't answer, she scoffed. "My mom was right. Everyone was right. They were _all_ right. You _gave us up_." The now wet Rabbit didn't dare point out that, just hours before, Samantha seemed eager to give up everything for a good night of dancing. She just swallowed and stayed silent instead. "Stay away from the Burrow's, Judy. You did it. You got away from us. No one's gonna want a Foxes side dish now. Congrats on figuring out the loophole. Now you'll never have to come back." She gave the top of her dress a little tug where it had slipped after she'd thrown the drink. "But you didn't deserve us anyway."

"Samantha-"

"I'll say hi to your family for you. Might be nice to actually have someone who cares for a change." With that, she put down the glass and took the Otter by the arm. "Come on, baby."

"I love it when you're _vicious_. it's _sexy_."

"More where that came from, _hot stuff_."

Their voices faded away with the strobing and the music, their bodies following to disappear in the crowd.

* * *

For a few minutes Judy sat on her own, still stunned and wet and sticky, her dress and face darkened with mystery alcohol. No one had seen what had happened. And so no one looked over or asked her if she was alright, or wondered or cared. They just kept dancing, leaving her on her own.

 _Rational_ , she told herself. _Be rational_. Because she'd trained for situations of high aggression, and she was meant to work through them. After an assessment in her purse she found her phone (2% battery), her wallet (void of cash), pepperspray (one quarter full). She couldn't pay for a cab. But she could at least clean herself up.

The hallway that was around the corner was filled with couples making out. Another few were standing outside the door smoking something that smelled a little too much like weed. She ignored it, instead ducking behind a swinging door, finding herself in the tiny, beaten bathroom.

There were three stalls and one didn't have a door. The place reeked of alcohol and the stale odor of cigarettes. The floors were stained, the walls were covered in graffiti and the small mirror above a single, rusted sink, was broken. No water. No towels. No nothing.

The rational side began to falter.

Her throat closed and her eyes burned, and no matter how much she tried, no rational explanation would help to deter them. So she didn't.

Judy made her way into one of the only stalls not broken, sitting on the floor with her back to the bathroom wall between two large stickers (one a political message for the former Mayor Lionheart, the other the shape of a cannabis leaf) and stuck her head between her knees. And for a while she simply breathed.

After about twenty minutes, when the adrenaline and the shock wore itself down, the alcohol settled into its place and decided that it was going to bunk for the night. The place was spinning. And the way that the music was still pounding in through the walls, assaulting her poor, sensitive ears wasn't making it any easier.

Tears sprung into her eyes, hot and stinging. She wanted to tell herself that she'd always hated Valentine's Day. That she cursed its name and all it had brought her. That it was the reason why she was here, sitting on the bathroom floor, soaking wet and smelling like two dollar strawberry shots. That it was the reason she was uselessly irrational. Why she was friendless and hopeless and miserable. That she _hated_ it and all that it stood for. All that it did. All that it would always do.

But the truth was… she didn't.

She'd always liked it. Liked the time spent at home. With family. With friends. Ever since she'd made the move into Zootopia things hadn't been going her way. Not her job, not her life, not anything…

The only real constant had been…

She felt the lump in her throat return, and for a moment she could feel the Emptiness Monster tug at her windpipes, giving them an experimental nibble.

 _Nick_.

She _missed_ Nick.

Had _been_ missing Nick.

Judy Hopps had never been much for emotional things. And so she hadn't called him for the last week. Maybe because she was ashamed. Ashamed of having feelings. Ashamed of what she'd left behind. Ashamed of what she might say if he prodded and poked. But more likely (most definitely) she was terrified that if she opened up… if she _admitted_ … if she finally told him that she… that without him…

… But maybe she was less scared of him discovering it.

Maybe she was more afraid of the fact that _she_ would.

Because maybe, just maybe, she did. So much. Without a doubt.

She reached for her phone, ready to call and apologize and beg for him to pick her up so they could start all over again. _I'm sorry_ , she'd say. _I was an idiot. I was a Dumb Bunny. You were right all along. You've always been right. And now I want my best friend back. And I'm so scared that he won't want to come back. Please tell me its not to late. Please. Please. Please._ The screen stayed black. She touched the power button again, only getting a little red bar in return. Out of battery. The words - _please, please, I'm sorry, please_ \- faded along with it. And she was left with nothing.

She could have screamed. But no one would have heard her. Not through the noise and the kissing and the music and the _love_.

Instead she just sucked in a breath, tucked herself tighter into the wall, and did her best to hide. Because if she could just stay like _that_ until it was all over, then she'd be okay. Just a few more hours, and then she could flash her badge and catch a cab or walk back home and bury herself into bed and sleep the world away.

She wasn't sure how long she'd been sitting there. But some long amount of spinning and reeling and time later, when she was somewhere between sleep and consciousness and drunken stupor, the door to the bathroom swung slowly open with a creak. She curled up tighter, content in her invisibility enough to think that mammal would do what they came to do, whatever that was, and then leave her be.

But the person didn't just go into another stall or to the mirror or drag in their newest plaything. They kept walking, claws tapping and clicking on the broken tiles, going silent when were in front of her. Her ears drooped, eyes cinching closed. _Leave me alone_ , she wanted to say. But she was too dizzy to argue, and she was afraid her voice would crack in two. So she waited for them to see the pathetic Bunny and leave.

When they didn't she just curled up tighter. "Go 'way..." she rasped quietly, throat protesting.

And then, after another minute, "You sure that's what you want, Carrots."

The whispered voice brought her out of her reveries, and she looked up to see, through the blur of alcohol and the smudge of exhaustion, a familiar russet figure standing before her, backed by hazy light between the walls of a bathroom stall.

Her voice sounded like it had been rung out and hung to dry, and it croaked out of lungs sore from the sting of alcohol and too much shouting into deaf ears. "Nick?" She wasn't quick to believe he was really there. He couldn't have been. _Shouldn't_ have been.

But there he was, standing in a bright green hawaiian shirt, his hands stuffed into his khaki's, a dark blue and red tie around his neck. Looking like the best person in the entire world as he leaned against the graffiti, smirking down at her with lidded eyes.

"What? Do you think I'd just leave you alone on the best night of your life? Nah. No way I was missing this, Carrots."

She could have cried. Could have stood up and embraced him and apologized right then and there. But her head gave a particularly nasty few pounding aches, and all that became dust to the wind. She groaned, hiding her head against the inside of her elbow. "Stop shouting…" she mumbled. "You're _shouting_. Why do you have to _shout_."

"Why do _you_ have to drink." She groaned again and he chuckled. "Room spinning much?"

"Too much." She didn't dare to move, scared that she would tumble off and fall. But she chanced it to look up, blinking a few times as her eyes adjusted to the movement. "... You're here?"

"I'm here." He confirmed with a huff. "What? Not happy to see me?"

 _Oh god, you have no idea, Nick_. Instead she nodded dumbly, swallowing back a sob. He gave a little, rasping laugh, moving across the floor to sit next to her. The floor was cold, but he was warm, and even with space still between them she could feel the heat. "I didn't…" she licked her chapped lips. "I didn't think… after…"

"You have so little faith in me, Judes."

 _Judes_. For the first time that night she was happy that someone, the right someone, the _only_ someone, had said that name. "Say that again," Judy slurred. "Gotta make sure you're real."

" _Judes_ ," Nick teased. "That good? Or do you need me to keep going?"

She wondered if maybe he _was_ a hallucination, reaching forward with an uncoordinated hand, thinking that maybe the fifth or sixth or… tenth shot had brought its wicked head to rear up and avenge its fallen brothers. That she'd finally cracked under it all and her punishment was to see him and only him. What she couldn't have. What she'd ruined with her sudden and strange hatred of a holiday that she'd held no animosity towards until farms became cities and families became long distance things of phone calls and crying siblings.

But when she did finally manage to touch him, unpadded paws prodding gently against his side, she found that she could only feel lean muscle and thin bone sticking out of the sleek Predators body. She took his tie in her fist and gave a little tug. He smirked.

"Real as you are, Hopps. A lot more sober, but real."

She gave her head a shake, regretting it when the room gave another twirl. "But… but I thought… Didn't think you'd-"

"What? You thought that a few angry words and a fight would get rid of me? You must not know me well enough, Hopps." She held onto his tie, not really wanting to let go, but not sure if he'd let her come any closer. He didn't stop her. "I talked to Clawhauser. He called me. Said you were having a tough time."

"... the _worst_ time…" she nodded, her head heavy and stuffed with cotton. "The _worst_ … I _hate_ S'matha Hare…"

"Is _that_ the girl that called you Judes? Ben told me that you just about had a fit over it."

"Not 'llowed to call me that…"

"Oh really?"

"No…" The room became a boardwalk carousel when she shook her head again. "You're the only one… She's not 'llowed…"

"Well, I'm flattered."

She tried a smile, but ducked her head when it only began to hurt more. Her stomach gave a little lurch with the pain, and she did her best to breathe. Apparently her past words, while they might have stuck, didn't affect Wilde's helping hand, and he had enough pity to at least run his sharp claws down her ears. She sighed into the repetition. "You really did have the worst night, huh?" His reply was a quiet whine. "There must have been _something_ good out of it, though? Meet any guys? I know there aren't many as good as me. But your basis of comparison is just too high."

"Yeah… and they all ran away…"

"They didn't _run_."

"I told them the joke about the antelope and the beaver. Trust me. They ran." Nick snorted, stalling his ministrations to lift her chin.

"That's a really bad joke, Judes."

"I know… I shouldn't have-"

"No. No, you should have. Guys are just dumb."

"You're a guy…"

"And how smart am I, huh? Trust me, Judes, _all_ guys are dumb." She chuffed, groaning when she managed to move back, sliding her aching body across the cold tiles beneath her, not stopping until she was sitting closer beside him, the two of them leaning up against the stall walls. He was sitting by a grouping of phone numbers all starting with _for a good time call_. She was beneath a slew of doodles of body parts that wouldn't have phased Yax in the least. Somewhere in the club a glass shattered, the place breaking into thunderous cheers and applause. "Opa!" Someone screamed, and the rest joined in.

"I think you're smart." Her voice had him trained back, and he looked at her down his muzzle. "I'm not…"

"I don't believe that." The space that she'd been hesitant to test was filled when he moved first, wrapping an arm around her. She propped her head on his shoulder. When she didn't think life, seemingly at its lowest, could get any better, he went back to running a paw across her ears. "You're smart, Judes. A little _thick headed_ sometimes… but smart."

"Yeah. Well I think you're pretty smart too." She hummed. He chuckled. The two of them sat together. It wasn't a bad moment, despite the fact that said moment would have been a lot better had she not been scantily clad, freezing, drunk and sitting on the floor of a dirty backroom club. But it was a moment all the same, and she let it rest at that.

"... That's a terrible joke to tell, though." Of course, Nick was the first to ruin it.

"You're the _worst_!"

"I can't believe you chose _that_ joke! C'mon, when was the last time you picked up a guy!"

"It's been a while!"

"I can tell." She punched his arm, nearly missing through the spinning of the room. Nick just laughed, catching her fist before pulling her back to him, settling her head under his chin. "For the record though, Judes," he added softly once she seemed to have calmed down, going pliant against him, "I actually really like your bad jokes."

"... Really?"

"Mmhm."

And the moment that was just a moment became something else. Because even though everything was in shambles, even though _they_ might have been in shambles, there was enough normalcy to hold onto. And so she latched onto it with a hold that was as strong as the one she had on his tie, and promised herself not to let go until he did.

He must have read her thoughts, giving her shoulder a squeeze. "So… I wanted to ask you… about the other day."

"Oh _god_."

"You knew it was coming, Carrots. I was going to ask at some point."

"Why _now_. The world _hurts_."

"Because you're drunk," he pointed out. "And I am seasoned enough in this field to know that people are at their most honest when they're _drunk_." She flinched, giving his shoulder a pitiful bump with her forehead, letting it rest there. "So… what's been going on with you? You've been going at my throat like a viper." He gave her a little shake, looking through his lashes at the guilty expression that took over.

"S'rry…"

"Don't say _sorry_ ," he reasoned. "I was _worried_ , Judes! For a second there…" And he swallowed. "I honestly thought for a second there that you didn't think being friends with a Predator-"

" _Nick! No!_ "

"Well, what else was I s'possed ta think, Carrots! You weren't talking to me! And the last thing you said, if I remember correctly, was 'leave me alone'. Which I _didn't_ , might I add. Not that you answered any of my texts or calls. I was ready to break into your place. Needed to find out what I'd done wrong."

It was strange and awful, she realized, that in all her time she never even thought once that _perhaps_ her little tantrum would have had Nick blaming himself for anything. She hadn't considered the notion of blame to anyone, and had been content in her own misery enough to ignore the feelings of those around her. And for her, Judy Hopps, a Bunny as naturally empathetic as to step under every rain cloud that hung over people's heads, to miss something like that… it was shameful. "Nothing…" she tore the word out of a throat stained long ago with alcohol. "Nick… you didn't do _anything_ wrong. _Nothing_."

"I dunno about that, Carrots."

"You _didn't_! What happened was all… it was all _me_!"

"All you?" His brow rose. "You screaming the streets down was all _you_?"

"Yes!"

"Why?"

"Because…" She thought a moment, wanting her best to give an honest answer. "I don't know," she decided. What scared her most was how honest that answer was. "I don't know."

Apparently honesty faltered where answers didn't, and Nick wasn't at all pleased with what he was getting. "Not good enough. Give me something, Carrots. Soothe this brain o'mine."

"Why do you _need_ an answer? It was all me!"

"Yeah. Sure. Maybe. But there's something else going on."

"There isn't anything-" A paw tugging on her ears, triggering her head to give a rather nice few reminders that it was there with an ache or two, had her shutting her mouth with a dull _click_. "There isn't…" she said weakly. He rolled his eyes towards a nice collection of old stickers on the ceiling.

"Come on, Judes… You _really_ want me to believe that you just _happened_ to have _one bad day_? _You_?"

He knew her too well. And that, above all, scared her the most. "Come on, Judes." He was watching her shut down slowly, terrified of the fact that he knew more than she ever would. That a Predator… that the one she was meant to check the beds and closets of her youngest siblings for… knew enough to look at her once and tell her that she wasn't okay. " _Talk_ to me."

And maybe, more than anything, it scared her that he was right.

"I knew Samantha from school…" She wasn't sure why she started with that, but it only seemed like the reasonable thing to do. She should have told him everything else. But it felt natural. After so many days without speaking, this was all she wanted to say. The freshest thing in her mind. The thing that hurt the most. New wounds leaked. She could deal with scars after what needed patching. "She was popular. I wasn't. So… she called me and I went out with her…"

"She's the one that called you Judes?"

"Yeah… That's her…" She puffed out a breath, wobbling in place. The tiles were still freezing and she shivered. He pulled her close. His tie was hanging near her, and she took it between her paws, fiddling with it, folding it this way and that, watching the wrinkles so she didn't have to look at anything else. "She said it'd be good for me to get out. You know? How… how you always used to say it'd be good for me…"

"But you _hate_ being out."

"I hate being out," she agreed. "But I said yes. Because… because this week was awful. These last _few weeks_ … they've all been awful."

"You didn't tell me."

"I didn't tell anyone." A blustery sigh jostled the fabric about his neck. The wall they were leaning against was covered in calcium buildup and mold, the wall darkened with soot and cigarette burns. His shirt was stark against it. She could see where the green was riding up, the fur at his waist peeking out. "She took me out, and she thought I was one thing. But I wasn't. And… she wasn't happy."

"What did she think you were?" He scoffed. "Relaxed?"

" _No_ … She thought I was…" she shrugged, closing her eyes against the new wave of nausea. The paws on his tie stilled, starting up again when her stomach stopped trying to kill itself. "She thought I was… something else. And she didn't like that I was _me_."

"What's you?"

"A cop… And… and… you know…"

It didn't take him long to take a hint. Not that she'd even offered one. He nodded, his smile a tragedy in itself. "The new you is friends with a Predator."

" _Partners_ with a Predator," Judy pointed out weakly. "The friends thing she thought was fixable. But the partner thing really got to her." Her ears twitched with a new noise past the bathroom door, a couple slamming against it, matched in their passions. The air was beginning to take on the sickly, sweet smell of weed, but she didn't care. "Didn't like that my life was in your hands, or something along those lines."

"And _is_ that where your life is?" He scoffed. "You seem to have your life in your own hands, last I've seen, Carrots."

"Yeah." She scrubbed at her face. "Anyway… I said some things. And then she threw a drink at me."

"Is that why you smell like strawberries."

"I grew up on a farm. Whatever was in that was _not_ strawberries."

"I doubt your strawberries ever had you on the floor of a bathroom drunk, Carrots." When she huffed, he laughed. "Okay, so Samantha. We hate her. Got it. Now what else got to you? Was it Bogo? Did he give you another few bad cases?" Another low sound in her throat. " _Parking duty_? Did you not meet a quota?"

"... no…"

"Clawhauser get sprinkles on your paperwork again?"

"No! It's not- it's just that-"

"It's just _what_?"

Up until that moment, control had been maintained. But maintenance had been lacking for long enough, and the flood broke through as surely as it always was meant to.

"I _hate_ winter here." Her hands threw themselves into the air, near smacking him in the muzzle, and he jerked out of the way with a little growl. Ignoring him, she favored instead to bang her head back, forgetting where they were and yelping when the back of her head connected to the graffitied stall. Her hands went up to cradle the place where it had dealt a blow, ears skewed this way and that.

When she moved to Zootopia she was supposed to be an amazing cop living an amazing life with people looking up to her and respecting her. She was _supposed_ to be living a dream and saving the lives of citizens left and right. She was _supposed_ to be the top officer in her squad and the one that everyone adored. She was the _first of her kind_. And in her mind that had been something of an _honor_ and a _privilege_ and the start of something new and amazing.

But this wasn't at all how she envisioned things going at all. Her head was _pounding_ and she was sitting on the floor in a dirty bathroom next to a predator, _her predator_. She hated her clothes, she hated that her friend left her, she _hated_ that she was covered in liquor, and she _hated_ Valentine's Day. Judy Hopps, inebriated as she was, didn't know much at that moment. But there was one thing she was sure as hell of.

Things weren't going her way. She was far away from home. And she was _miserable._

"You've been miserable because of _winter_?" Not noticing her rising distress, he pulled up his muzzle in something that could have easily been confusion, but sounded more like skepticism than anything else. " _That's_ why? You yelled at me because of _snow_!?" Nick gave a little scoffing snort. "Honestly, Carrots. It's like you've never even _seen_ the stuff. Didn't you have snow back at the burrows?"

The gates broke, the flood rose, and all sensibility drowned with it.

Just like that, she began to sniffle. Holding her pounding head, sitting next to the Predator at her side, hoping her stomach didn't give up on her, she couldn't stop her little nose from wiggling. And before she could do much else to stop it, a sniffle turned into two and then three and soon enough, her violet eyes were filling with warm tears.

" _Carrots_!"

His alarmed call was the last straw, and no one could have stopped the torrent of tears if they had wanted to.

Like slamming the gas on a car from 50 to 100, she went from a wobbling lip to bent over, holding her pounding head, slurping in huge gulps of air between heaving and hideous sobs. " _Carrots_! _Judy_ , what- _what's wrong_!"

" _I h-h-hate th-this_!"

"Hate _what_!" He was looking more and more like a deer caught in the headlights. " _Talk_ to me!"

"Th-this s-s-su-u-ucks!"

"Can't agree more! But _what is it_!" She didn't answer, choking on another few cries. He grabbed her, pulling her to him, giving her a little shake. "Come _on_! Where's my Dumb stupidly rational Bunny?"

"I _hate_ Valentine's Day…" she managed through a particularly ugly sob.

"Oh really? I thought it was your favorite by the way this was going!"

"I hate _pink_ and I hate that everyone h-h-has someone!" She pounded her fists against his knees, hating that he was letting her. "I h-hate that e-everyone's _fighting_ and I hate that I-I don't have a j-job that takes… takes me _seriously_! And I _hate_ hearts and _stupid_ candles and… and _noir movies_! And _snowball fights_!"

"Gotta tell ya', I didn't know you hated all these things!

She shook her head, and one of her ears slapped his shoulder. "I miss my _house_ and I hate this _city_ and I hate its _snow_ and my ears hurt and my feet hurt my head hurts and… _and I'm sitting in a dirty bathroom drunk_!"

"Might I add," Nick pointed out cheerfully, "that that's basically initiation around here. I remember my first time. Behind a dumpster in an alleyway. It only took three shots back then! I was a real lightweight. Shows how much times change, huh."

"Well I _hate it_! I just-! I just want to go _home_! _My brothers and sisters miss me, my mom and dad haven't seen me in months! it isn't… it isn't fair_! _And… and I'm just supposed to suck it up because I'm a cop but… but I don't wanna suck it up_!"

For a moment she sat there, breathing like the very winds were made from inside of her. Outside a bouncer was collecting the formerly passionate couple. They yelled words at him that no one should have known, and he said some things back that she wasn't aware existed. A few people came, more went. The music was still loud, but the chaos had gone dull. It must have been early in the morning- the crowd finally thinning.

"So…" he interrupted the quiet. "So that's it. You miss your family."

"I shouldn't." He'd gotten it. And she'd always known it. But she hadn't _wanted_ to know it. "I _shouldn't_." Her eyes stung with old tears, but fresh ones kept falling, and for some reason she couldn't seem to stop one. "I… I don't _want_ to."

From somewhere outside someone laughed. The song changed, beating through the walls. Nick's arm went back around her, and he leaned the bottom of his jaw at the space between her ears. "You should, Judy." She could feel the vibrations from his voice, and she closed her eyes against them. "There isn't a right or wrong way about this. You're just going to."

"I don't _want_ to," she said again. A few tears landed on the hem of her shirt, staining it where they'd landed. He moved his head away, tilting her chin. His claws pricked at her neck, but she couldn't find the fear that should have followed along. Not when he smiled fondly, sympathetically. Not when he wiped at her face with the pads of his paw, their surfaces scratching like sand.

"I know."

"It… I feel _empty_."

"I know."

"I don't know how to fix it."

"Neither do I." He wiped away the next few tears before they could do any damage to her clothes. A few slipped down his wrist, leaving little rivulets in his fur, but he didn't seem to notice. "Sometimes you have to be empty. You know?"

She nodded. "I still hate it."

"You're not supposed to like it."

It was her turn to wipe away tears, but she was glad that he didn't let go of her when she did. He just kept holding onto her arms. Letting her know he was there. And maybe a while back she would've hated that. But Nick seemed to know when it was right and wrong to do things, and right then and there he knew it was okay. And he was right. Because he was always right. Because he was Nick.

"It was worse," she pointed out past a few new tears, laughing at the irony at it all - _stuck in a bathroom on Valentine's Day with a predator, crying because of something that Prey did to him_ \- "when I thought I'd lost you."

"Haven't I told you anything, Carrots? Honestly, for a detective, you're slow to figure things out." He gave her ear a flick where it had fallen to her shoulder. "Not going anywhere."

"... Nick?"

"Yeah."

 _Thank you_ , she wanted to say. _Thank you for being here. Thank you for being you. Thank you so much for everything that you are._ She wanted to tell him right then and there. Proclaim to the moon and the stars and to the badge on her chest. Wanted to tell him just how she felt. What he meant. Why she was so happy he stayed, and why he couldn't go.

"I'm gonna throw up." she said instead.

He held her ears back, rubbing circles down her spine and telling her that he'd still love her in the morning even though she told bad jokes and looked ridiculous and disgusting before snapping a picture for later (say carrots, Carrots! I'm holding this against you forever! Make it worth it!). She told him to shove off and exactly where he could put his damn phone before proceeding to gag again, leaning her elbows against the bowl.

The alcohol was _not_ a temporary visitor, and apparently that little moment had just been it putting its feet up. Not vomit or heart to hearts could get it to give up its space, and so fifteen minutes later, void of everything she'd eaten over her last lifetime, she lay on the floor, surrounded by spinning and spinning and more spinning.

"Alright, Carrots." he gave her elbow a nudge with his knuckles, helping her sit up. She just leaned her full weight against him. "Nope. None of that. Time to go."

" _Noooo_." She moaned out the word, sinking farther onto the ground.

"Not a choice."

"... wanna stay here. 'live here now…" she hissed out. "The rooms spinning. It's my spinning home…"

"You can't stay here, Judes. We're in a dirty bathroom. You're going to hate me in the morning if I let you stay here."

"... hate you now…"

"I know you do, you goddamn wonderful disaster of an animal." She snorted out a laugh, and his muzzle pulled back into a sharp grin. "Come on, Carrots," he said again, reaching down to help her to her shaky, frictionless feet. "Let's get you to bed."

* * *

The first time Judy had gotten drunk had been when she was fifteen. Her parents and her had gotten into a particularly nasty fight - _something about the family business and unrealistic dreams_ \- and she'd rebelled by going with her friends to some popular boys party a few blocks away. She'd inhaled shots and took a few swigs straight out of an unmarked bottle. She hadn't expected it to happen. But there had been a need to unwind. The fear of losing control, however, was real, and the Cop in her had done its best to create order. _We stick together, right_? she'd told her friends after lecturing them on safe sex and the proper way to break a nose with the heel of ones paw. _No one leaves anyone behind_.

The next morning she'd woken up hungover in the middle of a corn field. Her friends hadn't wanted to carry her. They thought it would be a safe and responsible place.

The second time had been with Samantha Hare and her friends. The last year of high school was nearly in its close and a chem test had tried their final limits. They'd convinced her that she was pretty enough, good enough, right enough, to break a few rules. And the next morning, after getting solemn promises that nothing would happen, she'd ended up worse off than before. Her parents found her wandering down the street, dirty from waking up in the ditch that a few choice and unnamed Rabbits had rolled her into, limping on swollen feet and carrying a heavy head on her shoulders.

There would be more times, but she'd been smart enough to keep to herself. Friends had been dangerous and unreliable things, and she'd treated them as such.

But there were times when all sensibilities were lost on the bottom of a shot glass.

Judy was a lightweight. And when she drank too much, she forgot.

It hit her later that night while Wilde toted her out of the club, helping her into the driver side of his car. She was drunk… forgetful… _vulnerable_ … in front of a Predator.

Samantha's words had been ridiculous at the time, but they still rang loud. _...someone who could kill you! With someone who could kill us! Haven't your parents taught you enough!_ She was fairly sure that her parents never had taught her this particular lesson. But that was because it was an impossibility. What Rabbit would ever get into a car drunk with a Fox.

When Wilde slammed his side of the door and revved up the engine, turning his head to say something to her, she had to remember that _she_ was that Rabbit who would. Who _did_.

And a part of her, one that she felt guilty, but rational enough, for having, blared every alarm that it had.

 _You won't remember_ , a little voice screamed. _He could leave you in a field or a ditch. Look at those teeth, those claws. He's a trickster. He's wiley. He's a con man. He's a Fox. Predator, Predator, Predator, get out now_!

But her limbs weren't really working, and everything was still spinning. And she wasn't going _anywhere_.

 _You're in danger_ , the voice, the one her parents and her town and her life, had told her time and time again. Had given and instilled and passed down. _You're in danger_!

And then a new voice, one she hadn't heard much, but had started to unpack and settle in its place, spoke up. Slow and cool and friendly and calm. _You're not in danger_ , it said, like it was talking about the weather. Like it was the simplest thing in the world. _You're safer than you could ever be_.

 _And why's that_! The other voice screamed back, waving its arms about its head.

 _Because_ , the other voice cooed, unfurling in complete and utter confident truth, _she's with Nick_.

The other voice went quiet after that. And Judy settled along with it.

She couldn't remember much. But she did remember a door. And an apartment building. She remembered being ushered into a bright room that hurt her head, the sound of running water doing nothing to soothe the aches in her brain. Something was pushed into her hands. She remembered closing the door, stumbling under a stream of a shower water that had been as miserable as it was wonderful. Vaguely, she remembered finding a folded up piece of cloth on the floor, left there with instructions to wear it when she was cleaned up. The shirt had been soft with age, and smelled like Nick and laundry soap. And somehow, she remembered, that had made her even more upset.

She remembered times when she'd almost lost him once. More recent memories of nearly losing him again. A fear that one day it would come true.

He'd come into the bathroom to find her wearing his shirt, the thing reaching her feet, leaning against the wall and crying into her knees. She'd said something about missing her parents. Missing her _home_. How stupid Valentine's day was because what use was it when everyone you loved was so far away. And so he'd sat next to her and held her close, toweling off her still soaked head and face before dragging his claws down her long, flopsy ears until she'd been calm enough to take a breath.

And when she had been in enough of a place to at least stumble a few steps, he'd dragged her to the couch, gotten her water, and the two of them had sat there, curled up together, watching television until the early hours.

"I have to tell you, Judes," he gave her ears another few gentle tugs, and she pressed her head into his palm, humming at the motion. "You are going to have one _hell_ of a headache tomorrow morning." They were halfway through some nature show about snakes. She'd given up trying to watch. Her head already hurt too much for that.

"I know…" Her voice had been raw from crying and wobbly from too many drinks. "I'm just waiting out my time until it gets here."

"Mind if I wait with you?" She didn't. So he did. When the clock chimed the witching hour and she was beginning to droop, he'd gathered up a quilt from the closet, draping it over the both of them. He was still in his clothes, and they had taken up the faint smell of the bar they'd left - _cheap drinks, cigarettes, too many people in too small a space_. But there was still so much him there. And she sunk her head against him, breathing in cheap cologne and shampoo and laundry soap.

* * *

At four a.m. it began to hail, small chunks of ice plinking against the glass, making far off metallic noises when they hit the a/c in his bedroom.

"Hey Nick?"

"Hmm…"

"... Sorry. If I ruined your Valentine's Day, I mean."

"It's not Valentine's Day anymore, Carrots," he said around a yawn. All his teeth flashed in the light of a new segment about birds, fangs appearing close to her face. She was too tired to flinch. Too tired to figure out if she even would have.

"I know… but still."

"It's okay. Never really liked it anyway."

"I do," she admitted drearily. "I didn't think I did. But I do, I think. My parents always made it fun." Her next sigh ruffled the fur at his neck. "We'd watch noir films. And lose in a snowball fight. And they had these stupid heart shaped candles that they'd put everywhere." Her laugh was wet. "I love those stupid candles."

He laughed next, shoulders shaking, bouncing against her chin. "My mom used to make heart shaped pancakes in the morning. And there were these few years where she held down a second job at a movie theater and we'd sneak in to watch all day until they kicked us out."

"That sounds nice."

"It was. But so was yours." His voice was soft, but not sad. "I don't hate Valnetine's Day either, I think."

"Yeah…" The hail picked up in a crescendo of clinking. "Sorry for ruining it."

"Don't tell anyone I said this, but if I was going to have one person in this whole world ruin my Valentines Day, I'm glad it's you." She smiled up at him blearily, and he rolled his eyes, huffing a laugh that brushed warm breath across the top of her head. "You're an idiot, you know that. And _emotional_."

"I'm an emotional drunk," she slurred knowingly. "College was an interesting time…"

"Yeah. No kidding." She tried to elbow him, but only managed to sink lower into the couch, her head bouncing against his ribcage where it stayed, giving up on moving from that point on. From above she heard him snort before his claws were back to their work of kneading the fur on her head, and she had to sigh into the perfect relief of the nausea.

* * *

At around 4:30, the strawberry shots making their way into her blood, the nature channel a whirling, colored mess, she gave up trying not to be sad and just became sad anyway. Her hands had gone to work against his fur, nearly unbeknownst to her. Her character far braver when it was fueled with booze. Rabbits never got close enough to Foxes to look at them, and Foxes knew that Rabbits wouldn't dare and never took the chance to try it out. And so sitting there cross legged, swaying slightly, she explored. Dull nails tracing the pad of one paw, marveling at its scratchy surface and calloused edges compared to her own soft ones, she briefly wondered what kind of aneurysm her parents would have had if they saw her this close. What kind of fit Samantha would have had if she'd walked in.

"Hey Nick?" She pressed her thumb against his wrist, feeling the pulse sing back.

"What's up, Carrots?"

"... I don't hate you…" She drew her hand over one of his ears, feeling the coarse fur at his neck prickle against her palm. "Sorry I said… I said stuff about you bein' a Pred'er… I didn't mean it…"

"I know, Judes." He let her hands wander where they were, leaning a bit more towards her. She carefully nudged the scorched patches of blackened fur on the tips of huge ears, the fur there sharper, wiry. "You know… if you wanted to go home, you could. It wouldn't be that hard. I know that you miss your family."

She shook her head, dulled violets watching his ears twitch along with every foreign touch. "Too 'spensive… I have to… to wait for later."

"I could drive you."

She swallowed. Of _course_ he'd have said that. Of _course_ Nick would be so stupidly considerate and shine through with his stupid heart of stupid Gold and reach out just to help _her_. Of course on the week that she was the worst friend in existence he decided to be the best. "No… S'okay…" She gave his ear one final flick, drawing back. "I'll figure out something…"

"I know you will. But I'm here. If you need me."

"I know you are."

"Good."

* * *

Around 4:45 the hail had stopped. The nature channel switched to reptiles. A komodo dragon skittered across warm, sun bathed rocks. She'd taken up pressing her face against a pillow he'd looted out for her, trying hard to not think about food, but wanting to eat regardless. Her stomach dueled against itself with a lurch and a growl.

"You're homesick," he said when she mumbled something about leaving home. "That's okay."

"Bunnies not s'possed ta leave home…" Her eyes hurt, but she did her best to look his way. "S'mantha says that I… I turned my back… on my fam'ly…"

"Well last time I checked, Foxes weren't _supposed_ to be best friends with Bunnies, but here we are." She snorted. He smiled, adjusting the blankets around her. "And what does Samantha know? Because if she _knew_ you, she'd know that you were the most loyal idiot in the entire world."

"She doesn' know tha'..."

"Then I guess she doesn't know _you_."

Judy did her best not to cry all over again, not quite sure why she even wanted to. "Wish I'd… wish I'd talked to you first…" she'd slurred.

"So do I," he sneered. "Dumb Bunny. Tell me, next time. That's what I'm _here_ for." His smile was thin and his eyes were heavy lidded in that wonderful smirking grin that he only seemed to give to her. He gave her hip a little bump with his own. "You're supposed to complain to me, Carrots. About anything. And nothing. What do you think I do every day when I call you? Hell, if I _didn't_ call you every day I might have been drinking myself over the table like you did ages ago."

"Hey Nick?"

"You're saying that a lot tonight, you know that."

She nodded a sloppy sort of nod. "Mmhmm…" And then, "I think… I think I'm homesick."

"Yeah. I know."

"I think I just miss my family. A lot."

"Yeah. I guessed."

Her chest expanded in a breath, gathering courage along with the stale air filled with old rain and the chill of oncoming snow. "I'm glad you're here though…" she admitted softly, shyly.

"You're an idiot."

"I'm _yer_ idiot."

Nick just chuffed, ruffling the fur between her ears, leaving his paw there a moment longer, watching her with thoughtful eyes. The green flashed a shyness that she wasn't used to. One that was gone before she'd really had a chance to see it. "Hey, Carrots?"

"Mmm."

"Until you get this whole mess sorted out with your family, you should know that _I_ love you." His eyes flashed again, and slowly, carefully, he leaned forward, touching his brow to hers, his awkwardly long muzzle bumping at her face, their noses touching together for the briefest of seconds. She felt a flash of cold from the freezing, damp thing, followed by sharp claws once more softly ruffling at the downy fur between her ears. "And you're _my_ family. And I'm glad you're here."

If she hadn't been so damn tired, she might have cried all over again. But she was. So she didn't. She leaned forward to press her brow against his shoulder, felt him wrap his arms around her. "Thanks, Nick…" she whispered into the fabric of his shirt. "Thanks 'lot."

"Welcome, Judes."

* * *

At 5 a.m. he announced bed-time. Ignoring all protests - _but we're learnin' 'bout crickets next! You love crickets!_ -, he shut off the television. "You have a toothbrush in the cabinet," he reminded her, adjusting the blanket around her body. "And you know your way around the kitchen."

"Mmm…"

"I'm down the hall if you need anything. Shout if you do."

"Can't shout," she whined, pressing her fingers to her temples. "Hurts."

"Good. Less work for me then."

" _Ass_."

He chuckled, shutting off a lamp he'd left on nearer to the couch. The room fell into a velvet sort of pitch that left her void of what senses the booze hadn't completely impaired. In the dark she could still see his silhouette, watched him turn towards her. Eyes glowed green and bright with quick and clever shimmers. She blinked back, not sure if she was meant to feel afraid or safe and decided on a little bit of both. "Night… N'ck…" She managed to slur.

"Goodnight, Carrots." said the eyes. And with a quick sliver he was gone, his light footfalls receding back.

She fell asleep when the first few flakes of fresh snow fell from the sky, breathing into the pillow, hiking up the quilt, one of her ears flopping over her eyes.

She didn't see the eyes return a few more times before the sun rose. Adjusting blankets. Adding more when it got too cold. Making sure everything was alright. She slept the night away, blissfully unaware of the world.

* * *

When Judy woke up the next day (or at some point, dates and times didn't really matter when your body felt like it was about to murder itself) she had to remind herself where she was. It took looking down at herself, at the quilt and the green shirt and the ratty but soft couch, to put the pieces together.

She couldn't remember much of the night. In fact, what she could remember was snapshots of animosity and fear. Though, with some relief, she found that conversations at least, for the most part, had stuck tight.

But what was not heart to hearts was blurry, and of those moments she remembered three key things. She'd gotten drunk (hammered). She'd cried (a lot). She'd been brought (dragged) back to Nick's. And she was still unsure whether or not she regretted it yet.

But all grey clouds had their silver linings. And with Nick, it would seem, those had upgraded to platinum. She hadn't had her face drawn on, which was a _good_ sign. She hadn't gotten hurt by a Predator, which was an _excellent_ sign. She didn't wake up on the side of the road or in a ditch, which was at least an _amazing_ sign. And besides a raging headache and feet made of jello, she was safe and warm and comfortable.

She fluttered the sleep from her eyes to stare at a bottle of AlligatorAde on a side table next to the sofa she was currently curled up in. She moved, hissed when her head resented her for it, reached for the bottle before noticing the tablets beside it, weighing down a sheet of paper.

 _Went out for breakfast_ , it read. _See you soon_.

He'd get back a while later, after she'd finally gotten up enough energy to at least sit upright, charging through the door, covered in snow and sleet, and announcing (far too loudly for her tastes) that it was far past two in the afternoon and that apparently warranted a day of doing nothing.

"And to celebrate doing nothing," he'd flashed her his proudest smile, waving a bag in her face before plopping it on the couch, "I snagged some movies and a few things from the store. Grabbed some bagels for lunch, too. Look! This is it, right?"

He'd proceeded to take out a scratched copy of Phillip Marlin and a few other black and white noirs. And, after also dumping out half a dozen heart shaped candles that had been on sale at the Mammal-Mart a few blocks away, he suggested that they ignore all convention and wind back the clock.

"That's impossible," she'd croaked back, trying to be as serious as she could but failing through a smile that hurt her entire face. "You can't just _go back_."

"Watch me, Carrots. I'm a con-man." And he handed her a bagel, sliding a container of cream cheese across the quilt. "This is just one of my finer moments."

The snow picked up later that day, but she didn't notice. And if she did happen to look outside now and again, she failed to see the way that it collected into gray piles on the sidewalks. Somehow finding a way to notice the odd and gentle sort of beauty to it all. Her mother would call her once, and she'd answer, talking through a mouthful of cream cheese and telling her that she was alright. Surprising herself when she meant it.

She spoke to her parents.

She said hi to her siblings.

She promised to be home as soon as she could.

And when she did hang up the phone, still laughing through a new joke her brother had learned, she didn't feel as empty.

"Thanks for helping me last night," she told him during a slower scene in the movie (Phillip Marlin had just met his saucy new companion who would no doubt turn on him in the third act). "I really do appreciate it."

"I aim ta' please..." he said through a huge bite of a cricket wing bagel. She snorted, reaching up to swipe a glob of cream cheese from the corner of his mouth, smearing it onto the tip of his wet nose. He sneezed, glaring at her before wiping it off.

"Well I'm _glad_ you aim to please. Because out of everyone who I'd _least_ hate seeing me have a drunk mental breakdown in an old dirty bathroom, you're top of that list."

"What an honor."

She hummed through another bite. Phillip Marlin and his new arm candy began to kiss. Outside it was still snowing, the large flakes falling to the ground like ashes. The city was covered in white. Below she could see couples strolling in the streets, families throwing snowballs back and forth in a park a few blocks away. The candles across his apartment burned, and with some nostalgic amusement, she realized that in his own personal touch to it all, he'd gotten the blueberry scented ones.

"I'm glad you're my friend," she said honestly before she could stop it. Realizing, a moment right after, that she hadn't wanted to stop it at all. Nick paused mid-chew, blinking at her with huge, emerald eyes. "I'm really, really glad."

That night they'd cook together, taking over the too tiny kitchen. She'd sit on the counter and hand him ingredients, and he'd pretend to be annoyed that they were eating vegetarian without so much as a clip to his tone. By nightfall, when the streetlights flickered on and she could watch the still falling snow through the yellow spotlights, he lit a new round of heart shaped candles and didn't bother to turn on any other lights.

He made hot chocolate and added too much whipped cream. She made tea and added too much milk. And they stood in front of his tiny balconies sliding doors, shoulder to chest, Predator to Prey, friend to friend, watching the world turn.

* * *

 **I have suddenly discovered that _these_ _few lines_ are something I want to write a story on.**

 **o0o**

It had been a trip for everyone when Wilde had discovered her on a Friday night in her room after days of limping about and refusing her mother's less than gentle instructions to go to the hospital. She's had fallen after soaking the things in antiseptic, hadn't been able to move, and had come to the conclusion that staying on the dirty floor, while not ideal, was going to be her only course of action. In reality the entire thing wasn't so bad, and it wasn't as if she was the first Bunny in the world to suffer it. It was a fairly common and easy to fix ailment. But it looked far worse. Even she knew that. Knew that mammals less acquainted with Rabbit's wouldn't see past the bloody red footprints scuffed across the hardwood. Nick had been about as furious as she'd ever seen him, snarling through serrated teeth about idiots and stupidity and stubborn, dumb bunnies before dragging her back to his apartment where she's practically been under house arrest for days, her feet dressed in thick wrappings and elevated on pillows. She's been grateful but antsy and annoyed and he'd been worried and inconsolable; all in all it wasn't an experience she was eager to repeat.

 **o0o**

 **I don't know why, but after I wrote that (and looked up tons of ways that Rabbits could become injured if not properly cared for) I realized _just how much fun a story like that could be_!**

 **Oh well... put in on the story bucket list behind the _tons of others I have planned_! We'll get to it eventually!**

 **On the other hand, a few notes!**

 **FIRSTLY I need to figure out how to hurt Nick Wilde! We're going to have them both hurt a lot. But in the end it's Judy who's going to get the most of it. Why? I promise you it's not some "need to see women vulnerable and weak" thing. It's just her character. She's the first to jump into the fire and the first to block the bullet. Nick's not like that. He doesn't take as many _chances_. **

**Which is why when he does get hurt, it'll be _that much sweeter_!**

 **SECONDLY I'm sorry this came out late! I had work and such! Be patient with me!**

 **THIRDLY! I have a few more stories planned and your ideas are _really helping_! So thank you for that! SO MUCH ANGST PLANNED OMG!**

 **LASTLY! JUDY STILL HASN'T SAID "I LOVE YOU". BUT GODDAMMIT SHE WILL. OOOOOH SHE WILL! AND WHEN THAT DAY FINALLY ARRIVES IT WILL BE A _GLORIOUS ONE_! **

**I hope you enjoyed this as much as I liked writing it! God... friendships are so much work, aren't they? But with a lot of effort and time and care you can create lasting ones. So for Valentines Day, here's a shout out to all the friends that love each other and help each other get through all of life's pitfalls. We love you and we're so happy you're in our lives!**


	6. The Dichotomous Dress-Wear

**oh. em. goodness**

 **THIS STORY BLEW UP OVER THE LAST FEW WEEKS AND IT'S ALL THANKS TO YOU! I CAN'T BELIEVE IT! So many positive and lovely reviews from so many positive and lovely pebople! You really do stun and amaze me, and it just makes me so excited for y'all to see what's coming up in the future!**

 **Sorry this took a little extra time! I have some more already partially done, so we'll see if I can get those out faster!**

 **In the meantime... I have... _done my best_... and will be writing a SEPARATE STORY filled with one shots that... (sigh) SHIP THESE TWO. So for those who have asked and asked and asked and ASKED if I could write something that made them a couple... your prayers have been partially answered. And you will recieve a group of one shots for just that.**

 **There might even be a full length story soon to be released by yours truly.**

 **So that should be fun.**

 **Lots of good stuff to look forward to!**

 **For now let's focus on this and get going with our newest installment! Apologies! It's a bit of a mess, and will be tidied up over the next few days when I continuously go back and find ways to tweak it. Remember, I edited mostly between midterms at around hell'o'clock in the morning. If you find mistakes I most likely already know or will find them!  
**

 **In the meantime please do have fun reading this messy creation!**

 **ENJOY!**

* * *

o0o

 _"Invisible threads are the strongest ties."_

 _~Friedrich Nietzsche_

o0o

* * *

Nick hadn't always worn a tie. But he'd always wanted to.

A child that lived fantasies of grandeur, he grew up _knowing_ that he was going to make it big.

At two (30 Years Before) he was already trying to sneak out of his crib, scaling it with the abilities of older Foxes, just to pad about and give warbled orders to his stuffed animals (all faithful employees except for Mr. Hippo who leaked confidential information to Gerard Giraffe and had to be transferred to a lower department with a cut in his paw) while his father and mother slept.

At three (29 Years before) he was already drawing himself in the front of a boardroom- his tiny red body done up to the nines. Rooting his way through his father's closet, looking for suit jackets that smelled like perfume that was unfamiliar but pretty enough, drowning in too large shirts and pants that were more like tunnels, he became an animal of opportunity and wealth.

But most of all, he loved his fathers ties.

Draping them around his neck he'd stomp his tiny clawed feet about the house and give orders to all who crossed his path.

He felt powerful. Successful. Meaningful.

Nicholas Wilde, from an early age, knew that as long as one wore a tie, one could be whatever they wished.

* * *

 ** _28 years before_**

Right before four, two days before his birthday, the suits and ties in his father's closet were suddenly missing. He couldn't remember much at all. But his mother cried, and he was scared and she told him that they'd still be alright. He didn't really miss the guy. He hadn't _known_ him. But he did miss the suits and the ties - _especially the ties_ \- and that powerful feeling that they'd provided. If the suits that had helped his mother and him live for so many years were gone, then he'd just have to find his own and help her. And really, how hard could it have been?

So he kept practicing. Grabbing markers and crayons, he'd fashioned himself a tie out of paper towels and old twine, coloring it in a lovely shade of violet and grey before taking his newfound act to the streets, selling tepid lemonade and burnt cookies outside the steps of their small joint apartment, bringing back enough quarters to shower upon the Prince of Egypt.

"Look, Mommy!" He'd scrambled up the side of her bed where she'd been reading a book, propped against her pillows, turning the old beef stew can over and letting the coins spill out. "These should help, right!"

She'd given him a hug, and together they'd collected together all the spare change, putting it back into its container. And then she'd pushed it into his hands. "You're a little business man. And a darn good one." She flicked his nose, and he sat back giggling. "I think you'll make a good career out of this yet!"

"Really?" She ruffled the space between his ears, and when he giggled, the can in his paws let out a sound like rain against a tin roof.

"Really. I think all the businessmen will be jealous. After all, you've been doing this since you were _born_." Another giggle earned him a sloppy kiss on the cheek. "No one can _touch_ you!"

"I'll huttle all the best deals!" He said proudly.

His mother just chuckled. "It's called a _hustle_ , sweetheart."

* * *

 ** _26 years before_**

When he turned six he begged his mother for a tie. "So I can do business deals!" She had been at their kitchen table, a mug of coffee at her elbow, a newspaper in front of her and a red pen in her paw. "Please! I promise I'll give you a quarter of the funds if you invest in my business!"

She'd smiled, but it had been a weary one. "We'll see… I'm sure we can manage a tie…"

His birthday had been a hectic one. It had involved moving. Packing away what they had and storing it all in boxes, taking them to a small two room apartment even further down in the city. The neighborhood wasn't great, but it did have an ice cream shop on the corner and kids played in the rickety playground a few blocks down. He'd done his best to stay happy. Positive. It seemed to help his mother, who had begun to look so tired.

His birthday had also come with gifts.

Two new toys. A set of colored pencils.

And his very own tie.

"I found it in a little second hand store," she told him, helping him loop the long thing around his neck. "I thought it was _such_ a good color for you. I mean… you'll grow into it." It went down to the floor and was a lovely collection of red, blue and deep purple stripes. And Nick _loved_ it.

"How do I look!" He stood proudly, taking a stance, and his mother laughed.

"Like a real business animal."

Looking in the mirror, twisting back and forth, he decided that yes, he did look like a real business mammal.

* * *

 ** _25 years and 364 days before_**

It would take a few hours, but both mother and son had always been the patient type. And so they sat beside one another on a rickety arm chair that took up most of their small living room, listening to birds chirp and dance about in small puddles of dirty water that had collected near the drains, their paws over one another holding the long fabric. She taught him six knots in total and by the end of the day he'd remember exactly two of them.

It would take some time before he knew all six. But when that time did come (and it would) he knew them all well enough to barely need the aid of a mirror, sitting on a rickety mattress, staring out into the smog and preparing for days ahead.

* * *

 ** _24 years before_**

They'd gone out for icecream. The day was hot enough to have him outside on their front steps, panting up a storm from under the brim of his _Zootopia Lions Football_ hat. His mother had been in a good mood (though he rarely saw her otherwise) and had suggested, tucking her wallet into the pocket of her skirt, that they should take advantage of the heat and go out for a treat. The little place on the corner had been open, and they'd held hands, crossing the street and following random chalk drawings until they'd reached the front door. The little bell had rung and he'd released his mother's hand almost right away, skidding across the black and white tiling, standing on his tip toes to look into the glass casing, staring at all the choices through a fogged, dirty window.

His mother had laughed, chortling at his antics before ruffling between his ears and telling him to pick whatever he liked. Extra toppings and all. He'd had his mind set on a _perfect_ looking double scoop of blueberry with rainbow sprinkles when suddenly there was a sign in front of his mother's nose and a declaration of refusal for service. Nick wasn't sure what that had meant, but he hadn't been worried. His mother had always dealt with everyone.

The Porcupine looked mean. But his mother _wasn't_. She'd always been the sweetest. The kindest. Someone who he'd bet all the money in his piggy bank could easily take out every superhero in his frayed comic books. And standing across from the mean looking mammal with her sweater tied about her neck like a cape, he waited eagerly for a simple delivery of justice.

It never came.

"What are you gonna do, _Fox_?" The porcupine over the counter had glared at his mother. Wilde looked up, clutching at his mother's skirt. "We don't _sell_ to you."

"We're just here to buy something." She had a few dollars and a quarter or two already in her palm. Nick watched the coins shifting together with her shaking hand. He didn't know if it was out of anger or fear. Didn't know why it was happening at all.

The Porcupine behind the counter didn't care. Or maybe he didn't even notice. "For what? Selling again? I know all of you. What business are you peddling, huh?"

"No business!" She made a move to step back but didn't. "Can we _please_ just-"

"Nuh uh. No way. Not gonna see my stuff resold on the street by some shifty low life!"

"Mommy?" Nick had moved even closer, looking up over the counter.

"Sir, _please_ ," she was begging then. Pleading. And superheroes had never pleaded. Never _begged_. Nick pressed his eyes into the backs of her knees until they'd watered. Felt her paw land against the back of his head. "Not in front of my son-"

"What? You teaching him the family business?"

"What? No! We don't-"

"Look, I don't want to have to say this again-"

From the other side, sitting on old red plastic chairs a few other animals all turned their heads to glare.

"Just do what the nice guy says, lady."

" _Get out of here, Fox_ -"

"We don't need your kind skulking around here!"

Nick had waiting for his mother to fight. To shout back. She was the strongest person he knew after all, and so he waited for the moment when she'd rise up against them like the hero she had always been, fighting teachers and principals against phony charges and defending him from the monsters beneath the bed. But instead she just took her son by the hand and led him out. The bell jingled once more. And just like that, they were standing outside on the hot sidewalk without any ice cream and enough questions on his mind to fill the seas twice over.

He wouldn't get any of his answers.

So he put on his tie and waited for them to arrive. He'd always found that people who wore ties had answers. Or at least _looked_ like they did. When nothing came, he gave up, sitting in the corner of his room wondering through the day over and over again, replaying actions and trying to find where he was faulty.

But that night, after a bath and a book, she'd hung his tie up on the knob of his closet door and sat on the edge of his bed. "You're so much more than what he told you, you know that?"

"Mommy?"

"Just promise me you won't forget that, okay? That you're more than that. You're _so_ much more than that."

"He said that I was a Fox-"

"And you _are_. But there's nothing wrong with being a Fox." She kissed him on the head. Turned off the light. "Just make sure they know that."

* * *

 ** _23 years before_**

But perhaps it all started when he saw the small troop of children wandering from house to dingy house in his small ramshackle downtown neighborhood. They all wore uniforms, looking sharper than some of the businessmen that he sometimes saw on the streets. Dressed in tiny slacks and button ups, they seemed to charm every open face that peeked out the door. One of them turned around, and Nick saw the bandana about their neck, tied with the most classy of knots.

"Mom!" He tugged his mother's hand, slowing her pace down the walk. "Mom, _look_!"

"Nick, honey, we've got to-"

"No! No, look!" He gave her hand another tug, pointing towards the troop. "What are they doing!" He tilted his head, big ears flopping. One of the children saw him. Squinted. Raised a paw and cautiously waved. Nick could have jumped. "Mommy! Mommy did you see! They said hi!"

"I saw, sweetheart." She smiled down at him. "They seem nice."

"Can I go with them!"

"I think they're part of a club, Nick."

"Oh…" his ears drooped a moment. The kids across the street talked to someone walking the opposite direction before heading towards another door. They knocked. No one answered. The mammal who'd waved to Nick, a smallish beaver with a crooked tail, gestured to the group of five or six others and they followed him around the corner. Nick's ears drooped. "Do you think I could join, mom," he asked. Though from the way his voice sounded it seemed like he already knew the answer. Questions about school trips, sleep aways, after school activities, had all already been given, and this was no different.

His mother's paw brushed her pocket where her wallet was. "I'm not sure right now, hon."

"Okay." She sighed in relief, enormously glad for her son's understanding in those moments.

She gave his hand another little tug and they were soon walking down to the road once more.

* * *

" _You're a Predator" said one, advancing quickly. "You know that, right?"_

" _Y-yeah…?" His mother had always told him so. Told him what he was right after telling him to be kind. To be proud. To be himself. He did his best to smile in the face of animosity, showing all his sharp teeth in what he hoped was a sign of friendship._

 _That was all he really wanted, after all._

 _A friend._

" _You're a Predator," another said, and his own smile was one that held nothing but disgust. "We're Prey."_

" _You eat things like us," a third pointed out. "How must that feel. Working with dinner?"_

" _My mom says to be friends with everyone!" Nick hopped a bit on his heels, twiddling his thumbs. "I don't eat anyone here! And we really only buy at the supermarket! And I'm the nicest every because my mom said so and I always try to help everyone!" His smile faltered when the Prey looked back and forth amongst themselves. "I promise I've never hurt anyone!" he said again. "I… I'd never! Never ever!"_

 _Because he wouldn't. He never would._

* * *

Nick's mother surprised him with the uniform one day after school, sliding it across the kitchen table wrapped in old newspapers and chicken twine used to cook dinner from a few days prior. "You've been doing _so well_ , lately!" she told him after he'd stopped jumping off the walls. "It'll be good for you to be around more kids!"

"I get to wear a _uniform_!" He crowed, holding it up. His mother had to slow him, helping him button up the shirt with quick fingers. "Ya think they'll be impressed with how good I look in this!"

"I think they'll all be _jealous_ ," she tweaked his nose. "The handsomest animal there."

" _Really_!"

" _Really_." She crossed her heart with a claw, smirking down at him before grabbing him into a fierce hug. "First meetings tomorrow night! What do you think? Should we call in for pizza before you head out?"

His reply was an enthusiastic one.

* * *

" _You really think we'd trust a predator like you?"_

" _Bet you grew up in a cave, Predator. Where's your cave, huh?"_

" _You scare so many of us! How's it feel to be afraid for once!"_

" _Aw, look! He's crying!"_

* * *

His mother had stood at the bottom of the stairs watching him go, waving until he had rounded the corner. She'd practiced directions with him at least a hundred times, going over them again and again with instructions of not talking to strangers and coming strait home afterwards. He'd made quick promises and had kissed her goodbye.

She'd fiddled with his scarf, told him he looked like a real scout, said goodbye.

* * *

" _You're lucky this is all we're doing," one of them had hissed, throwing him against the stairs, landing a kick on the hollow wood next to his ribs. "You've hurt so many of us-"_

" _No! I wouldn't! I haven't!"_

 _But they hadn't listened, tugging him by the back of his shirt up the stairs, giving him a shove towards the front doors. Their jeers were the last thing he'd hear before he was running out. His claws were small, but they were sharp, and when he'd wrestled against leather straps he could feel them digging tiny scratches into his skin. Not that that mattered._

 _Nothing had really mattered._

 _So he'd sat on the walkway outside of a dingy church sign and cried._

* * *

Wilde didn't tell his mother what happened. Tried to keep it a secret. Because in his world, where his mother was a superhero, he had to be a sidekick. The person who helped aid her in all of her ventures. The one who wore the tie and brought home money to make her happy.

He wouldn't tell her how many times he'd wake up crying, nightmares of muzzles pressing against his face. Something told him that she guessed. Didn't know what had occurred, but had at least _guessed_. And in that time where she was silent in her own ideas and he was quiet in his truths, he took the time to contemplate and reason with everything that had ever occurred.

It was disturbingly easy to do the math.

A single variable (ice cream stores and angry patrons) added to another horrific variable (muzzles and cruel children and words that stung) equaled a constant that couldn't be defeated.

He was a Fox. And as a Fox the world was going to see him in only one way. Shifty. Sneaky. Untrustworthy.

* * *

 ** _22 Years Before_**

Wilde, at ten years old, and far too young for any such things, came to the decision that if the world was going to see him in only one way then so be it.

* * *

 ** _20 Years Before_**

He just wished that a superhero had stayed longer to prove him wrong.

* * *

 ** _20 Years and 183 Days Before_**

The foster care system he'd found himself in had never been the best one, and he found himself bounced back and forth between one home to the next, never really finding a permanent resident but somewhat grateful for the shelter and food nonetheless. Regardless, he'd learned quickly that when people opened up their houses in neighborhoods like the one he'd found himself in time and time again, they cared little for the ones that occupied it. It was easy to get out; open windows and jimmy doors and sneak down fire escapes to scamper through the streets.

He was a businessman at heart, and no one could keep him from doing what he had always been best at.

He took his earnings from years of lemonade sales and a few pawn jobs (taking things from foster homes that he knew wouldn't be dearly missed) and went to the department store as soon as he had collected enough cash.

When he came out again, he'd left behind too small jeans and an old sports jersey in favor of a pair of loose fitting khakis and a dark blue button up. He hated the new shirt. The collar was stiff and it dug into the back of his neck. But it fit with the tie that he'd bought- a deep purple thing with yellow squiggles. It had character. And if Nicholas Wilde liked anything, it was character.

Besides, his other tie still didn't fit. And if he was going to play a part, he'd need a tie that _fit_.

* * *

 ** _20 Years and 110 Days Before_**

He'd try tens of different scams before he found one that really suited him.

Strolling into a familiar neighborhood, he'd stepped through a familiar door, heard a familiar bell and smiled at a familiar mammal who had no such agenda to do the same back. He'd thrown the cash down on the counter, slapping it with his paw a few times to show that rejection of such an offer would have been near impossible.

"A quart of your best blueberry, my good sir," he'd oozed. "And please, don't skimp on the sprinkles.

It cost him $12.37. By the end of the day, lugging a large crate of ice behind him, smile thick and vengeful, he'd pocket an easy $200.

"I could get used to this," he'd mutter, before grabbing back ahold of a fire escape, hiding his wares behind a dumpster, and shimmying up to safety.

By the time he turned 15 (17 Years Before) he'd had enough money to shell out and get his own one bedroom hole in the wall apartment, convincing a new connection to forge a fake ID before heading off into the world as a legitimate businessman of the under-the-table variety.

By the time he'd turned 17 (15 years before) he'd collected enough money to kick his feet up.

When he was 25 (8 years before) he'd have enough to hire an assistant. He'd lose that one to jail time. As well as the one after. And the one after that. It wouldn't be until he'd turned 30 (2 years before) that he'd find someone who actually suited him. A small Desert Fox named Finnick who worked once a week for a few months before transitioning into a more full time partner. He made only 20% of the cut, but had other jobs and stuck around (Nick assumed) for the company.

He just wished the smaller had been more willing to wear a uniform.

"Businessmen wear ties," Nick had halfheartedly mentioned one day, licking idly at a Pawsicle.

"So?"

"So. Where's yours."

"Don't need one." Finnick's voice was deep and rumbling, and it shook against the popped collar of one of the many baseball jerseys that he wore on the daily. "Always hated them."

Nick had nodded, leaving it at that. Not wanting to voice his opinions about _professionalism_ and _trickery_ and _appearance_ to someone who could very likely bite his face off from the rest of his body with one temperamental snap. But watching him leave in his spray painted red van, he had to at least fiddle with his own.

* * *

Life had never been particularly easy for Nick Wilde. But looking back on a past as rocky as the mountains, he had to at least kick back and enjoy the view. He had money. No one could touch him. Scheming for years had brought on a professionalism that was as clever as it was despised, and his list of enemies had become more a mark of pride than anything else.

Someone had once stopped him after realizing they been jipped, glaring at him from over wire rimmed spectacles, stating, "don't you have anything better to do? Any _friends_?"

"Fraid not, sir," he called back boredly, licking the pad of his thumb before going through a small pile of cash. "Have a nice day."

Friends weren't needed when you were Nicholas P. Wilde. He'd always been better off alone anyway. Businessmen didn't travel together. They weren't pack animals. They were solitary in their accomplishments.

Nick Wilde didn't need anyone else.

Nick Wilde didn't need _anything_.

Still, the comment had left him feeling a little bit… odd inside. He'd scoffed, doing his best to bat at the hole that rarely seemed to fill itself. He was who he was, and to go against it would do nothing.

But if he did find himself browsing the aisles of a department stores later that evening, comparing new ties up against his green Hawaiian shirt, waiting to feel a spark inside his chest to make other things feel a bit less… numb… then who was anyone else to judge.

He'd buy three new ones and wear only two of them. The other would be thrown into the back of his closet. Which was fine. Sometimes it wasn't about the ties you liked. It was about how many you had.

* * *

By the time Wilde was 31 (1 Year Before) he'd had enough to fill a small dumpster. He had his favorite of course (a little blue, red and purple number he'd found in the back of a thrift store that had given him enough memories to pay the inflated price) but other than that he was content enough to store away the ones he'd found at random- ones with odd shapes and colors and different patterns that all possessed a sort of quirk that he found intriguing and admirable in both mammals and dress-wear. A hoarder at worst, a collector at best. No less empty but very well dressed. And that, Wilde decided, compensated for quite a bit.

And on the morning of his 32nd birthday he'd grabbed his favorite tie, skillfully knotting it with a practiced ease, adjusted it in the mirror with a huge mug of coffee in his left paw. It had been a foggy and distressful day filled with traffic and construction and mammals with yellow hats filing up and down his street eyeing the bottles of overpriced water and iced treats he'd placed strategically out for them. And sitting there in a fold out lawn chair, sipping out of a slurpy he'd grabbed from a corner store, he'd been fine to think that if compensation was how he was going to scrape miserably by, then at least he'd scrape the bottom with weighted pockets filled with cash.

* * *

Nick Wilde's life wasn't anything to scream Extra! Extra! about. But it was a good enough life. And he was content with being content about it.

All one needed to do in life was have nice ties and survive.

So that's what Wilde intended to do.

* * *

 **186 Days and 20 Hours Before**

And then Nick Wilde had met Judy Hopps.

Nick despised Judy.

Judy _despised_ Nick's tie.

But how could she not. The Fox seemed to either be color blind (he wasn't) or just made _incredibly_ bad fashion choices (he did) to think that a bright green hawaiian disaster of a shirt would go well with a red, blue and purple striped tie. And it wasn't even _that_. Standing there in khakis and a button up, Nick had the potential to dress nicely. Sure, his shirt carried prints made for a fifty year old tourist and his pants puffed out around thick fur and occasionally he smelled a little bit like the heady, cheap cologne that she knew must have come from out of a can or in a dollar store. But what really sold it all was the fact that he had to pair it with a tie. As if his look wasn't already ridiculous enough, he had to try and dress it all up.

It was like putting garnish on a trash heap.

But Judy had always been good at finding the positive things in life. And there were some positives. Nick's tie came in handy, for instance, when he decided to annoy her. And apparently he decided to annoy her _a lot_.

"Alright, come on Slick." She reached up, giving his tie a sharp tug, ignoring his low yelp of protest, followed by his growl. From the corner of her eye she could see him adjusting the top knot, glaring down at her.

"You're going to ruin my tie, _Carrots_ ," he spat out the nickname, and she hoped he didn't see the way her ears twitched in anger. He'd apparently decided that he was going to call her by the most _degrading_ thing he could. But she wasn't going to let him know it bothered her. Not when there was a case and her reputation on the line.

He was a pawn. She was the queen.

"Funny. I don't remember caring." Turning a three quarter circle she flashed him her best, smug grin. "Maybe it'd be better if you actually wore one _correctly_."

"This is correctly."

"Uh huh. Sure."

He mumbled something about _not seeing her wearing a tie_ , but followed obediently along.

* * *

 **186 Days and 15 Hours Before**

A break in their trailing of Otters and Tigers and lost Jaguars had found them sitting on the cold, gum covered picnic table of a small fast food joint on the outside of the Jungle District. She'd complained at first, apparently still holding a grudge against his last little timely visit to a certain employed Sloth. But he'd just flicked the back of her head, watching her glare and duck away, still not used to the close contact of claws.

"Don't _worry_ , Carrots," he'd goaded, taking out his phone and tapping in a few short words. "This is the quickest place in the district."

"You said that last time," she mumbled, swinging her feet under the table top, coming close to hitting his knees with her strong feet. Her face screwed up in thought- wondering how much he'd still be willing to help if she took a swing. "And last time it took _hours_."

"Well, this time it won't." Leaning on his elbow he leered at her. "C'mon, Darlin'. Don't you trust me by now?"

"There's a difference between trust and _depend_."

"Ooh. Ouch."

Their food arrived soon enough and they fell into an easy enough banter. He took a picture of her when she wasn't ready, saving the horrible thing with a cackle. She retaliated by stealing his fries when he wasn't looking. At one point she'd pulled out a few of their clues, dropping them on the table, settling them on top of old candy wrappers and a large sticky soda stain that smelled wretchedly sweet.

"Look. This is where we need to go. I have a friend at the Mayors office and once she gets back to us we can head over. Check the cameras."

"Cool." He set his teeth around his burger and she held back a gag- the smell of cooked meat something she wasn't sure she'd ever be used to. "And she'll talk to us?"

"If she keeps her promises, yeah." Judy shrugged. "She said if I needed anything. I think this qualifies."

"Aren't Sheep's known for flaking?"

"I think that's just Foxes with big mouths."

"Oh hah hah. Well what about- _oh_ _shoot_!" She blinked at him, ears flicking upward to look cautiously at the animal before her. His lips were pulled back into a snarl, his hand balled up against his chest before picking up the end of his horrible tie, tugging it away from him. "Dropped grease on it. Dammit. This is my best one, too."

"Really?" She cocked her head. " _That's_ your best one?"

"You know I still could technically leave you behind."

"Uh huh. Sure." He let out a pitifully distressed sound, and Judy, despite her meager but far more defined knowledge of fashion, rolled her eyes. "Oh calm down. It's an easy enough fix. Here." It took about half the shaker of salt that had been between them and a careful eye from the Bunny in front but sure enough she'd gotten him cleaned up and was letting him marvel at her work while she leaned on her hip smugly. "That's what we get for growing up in a little carrot choked Podunk."

"Good cleaning tricks?"

"No. The patience to deal with folks like you." She jerked her wrist, his tie flying up to hit him in the nose. He sneezed. Glared.

"I have a whole line of insults about the Burrows and their farmers, Rabbit," he huffed. "It sure seems like you're anxious to hear them all…"

"That's fine," she offered back sweetly. "We've got a whole _slew_ of them for you too. Do you know that where I come from, we call your kind a Coffee Boiler?"

"You call me a-"

Her phone beeping interrupted him. She grabbed an extra napkin from the center of the table, wiping grease off her hands. "It's Belleweather! She said to come over. Come on!" She was already off the table before he'd had a chance to react.

"Wait…!" He tagged along, newly cleaned tie swinging back and hitting him in the chest. "What's a _Coffee Boiler_!"

"Look it up, Wilde."

" _What did you call me, Rabbit_!"

"Keep up!" She sang back. "Don't wanna live up to the name just yet!" She ducked when he took a gentle swipe at her ears.

Later on, walking into the building, waiting in the lobby for the lead to show up, she watched out of the corner of her eye as Nick furiously typed something into his phone, stared at the screen, glared. "I am _not_ ," he snarled.

"Coffee Boiler," she murmured back under her breath, holding back a snort when he whipped about to snarl at her. The Assistant Mayor tailing behind Lionheart saved her a verbal beating, and she followed along, grabbing his tie and giving a hearty tug. "Come on, let's go!"

"... I am not…" he sulked, shoving his hands into his pockets.

* * *

 **185 Days and 9 Hours Before**

She was afraid of him, he realized.

At first that had been fine. And the, the further they'd traveled, the less fine it had become.

 _See_ , a voice cawed. _We told you that Prey couldn't be anything to a Predator._

 _A Predator like you,_ another joined in. _Stupid Fox_.

She was afraid of him. Flinched from teeth and claw. Kept distant. Held the small tube of repellent at her side.

It hurt. A little at first. A lot once he realized that she had the power to hurt him. That he let her. That he _wanted_ to let her.

 _Please don't be afraid of me_ , he found himself silently pleading, keeping himself as friendly and amicable as a sarcastic loudmouth like him could be. Making sure to always keep his tie in sight because that seemed to be what gave him humanity. To her, at least. Stringing him along. Tugging him by a leash. She trusted the tie.

... He wanted her to trust him.

* * *

 **185 Days and 1 Hour Before**

" _You thought we'd trust an animal who wasn't muzzled?"_ A child jeered. " _Like we're stupid enough to think you're anything more than a dirty Fox."_

" _It could have something to do with biology…"_

For a startling moment, Nick couldn't tell the difference between someone who had haunted him and someone he'd trusted.

She tried to reason. But there was no reason left. Not when there were canisters sidled against hips that were enough proof. He growled. Snapped. Hurt where he thought he'd told himself never to hurt again. He was made of skin and bones. He always knew that being immortal was impossible and at best he'd walk away with a bruise or two.

Apparently she'd managed to be the one that pushed that to the side, reached out and broke him.

Judy Hopps had never done anything halfway. So when she hurt him she stabbed and twisted and mutilated.

 _I promise…_

 _I promise to be brave…_

 _Loyal…_

 _Helpful..._

So he turned and left- the sound of children at his heels.

 _Even though you're a Fox?_

* * *

 **184 Days and 18 Hours Before**

"Alright… c'mere…"

When forgiveness was reached and relief poured out of her in smiles and tears, she'd almost bashfully approached him from under the sanctity of her bridge. She'd never been much of a hugger, but for some reason she was fine propping her head against the thin line of fabric splitting him in two.

He'd wrapped his arms around her, and all she'd seen for a moment was blue and red and purple. His cologne was something heady and cheap and strong- oak and vanilla and maybe even cloves, and it was strange to sink against the bad patterns and the strange smells and find something in it that even partially resembled comfort.

"Silly Bunny," he'd mumble later, batting at her ears. She'd retaliate by giving that patterned monstrosity a tug. But he seemed to mind less by then. Or maybe he'd just finally been humoring her. Either way the two of them were a strange pair. And while there was still a tentativeness between them (natural enemies didn't just get over their history in one night) he was willing to take oaths a million times with ties instead of sashes and scared violet eyes instead of a muzzle if only she'd understand that he'd stuck around in the hopes that she'd be back.

She'd been the first to believe in him. And part of him hoped she wasn't the last.

Even if she wasn't, even if there were others, she'd always be the one and only who had done more than just stand on the sidelines. So he pocketed the orange pen, got into the truck beside her, falling back into the banter he'd missed so much.

Children in his head would sneer that it couldn't have been real. Just wait. Just wait until she turned around and betrayed him again.

It would take him until a stray sunbeam hit through the dusty window that he'd notice his favorite tie was dotted with her tears.

* * *

 **184 Days and 16 Hours Before**

She'd hurt herself. And without a second thought he'd ducked back, dragging her with him out of sight. She's in pain, and he doesn't miss her flinch when he comes close, bandages her leg with the handkerchief from his pocket. She's a downed Prey. He's a Predator. Their situation is so morbidly reminiscent of the place they find themselves in that it might have been comical had they not been under threat of a psychotic Sheep and her herd.

They needed a plan.

Seeing her flinch once more, his teeth coming close to her face- the pieces fall together before he's even had a chance to think about them.

"We can do this," he's hissing, collecting blueberries off the floor. "They won't even _know_!"

Off in the distance there's the sounds of hooves drifting across marble. A flashlight beam reflects off the side of a large Gothic window. "You can take the case to Bogo," she says out loud. _Please don't do this to me_ , he heard. _I'm scared. I'm sorry, but I'm scared_.

"Trust me," he told her, placing the blue pellet into his pocket. _Please let me. Please let me show you_.

"Nick. I _trust_ you… but-"

"No." he shook his head. Over her shoulder the acting mayor goaded something into the dark. "We can do this. _You_ can do this. I won't hurt you."

"Nick-"

"I _won't_." He packed the gun away into the case. The bandage was loosening, and he leaned down to give the ends an extra tug, his paw brushing her knee. "You're safe with me." Holding out his paw for her to take. "You gotta _trust_ _me_ , Carrots."

He doesn't know if it's real or its desperation, but he's willing to take what he can get when she nods, reaches up and takes his paw. He hoists her up, winding his arm around her. "You ready?" He asks.

Her paw dances out and gives his tie a tug, pulling it close to her much like a child would their security blanket, letting it drop again when there was the sound of the Mayor's voice in the back reasoning with logic that no longer holds any ground. "No," she says.

"Good." He collects the case closer- counts down from ten. "Me neither." And then they run.

There would be actual fear in her eyes for more time than he'd wanted. And he'd hoped that perhaps, somewhere in her mind, she knew that what he'd said was what he'd meant. He wouldn't. He never would.

And Judy was frightened. Because what level headed Prey facing their primary Predator backed into a corner wouldn't be?

And he could understand that. Could still hear the jibes and snarls of ranger scouts hissing in the back of his mind.

" _Why don't you stick with your own kind."_

" _No Prey is ever gonna trust you. Just stick with what you know."_

But that all vanished when his tie bumped her knee. That stupid, stupid tie that seemed to define the very essence of what Nick was. And even as he'd lunged for her neck, and fangs had poked and prodded at fur and skin, she'd been fine. Her paw wrapped around that very tie in a habit he was beginning to notice but didn't very much mind at all, and his own hand fell against hers, giving the smaller a squeeze. _You're alright, Carrots. You're alright._

In the end, it all was.

"It's called a hustle, sweetheart."

* * *

 **186 Days and 14 Hours Before**

He'd see her rubbing at her neck later that day, draped in the customary silver shock blanket that paramedics had insisted upon even when Judy had protested adamantly promising complete sanity. "Just do what the Bull says, Judes." Wilde snuck up behind her, plopping down on the edge of the museum steps where they'd situated her. "It'll make it all go faster."

"He says I'm not fine," she mumbled, almost sounding insulted at the mere thought. "He still thinks I can't handle myself."

"I think he knows you can by now." Someone passed him a coffee and he took it gratefully. The styrofoam warmed his paws and he tapped his claws against it, watching little braille indents form against the malleable surface. "And if he doesn't, he's an idiot."

"I'm a good cop," she told him, declared it like she knew -which he had no doubt of. "I took down a Rhino! By myself!" Her fist was in the air, shaking about, silver blanket slipping down her shoulder. He reached out and tugged it back into place.

"I'm sure, Carrots."

"And I've caught Weasels and outrun Bears and Wolves!"

He took a sip of his coffee, nose wrinkling at the dry metallic taste of a cheap brew. "I know."

"I mean cheese and crackers, I hustled you!" The last line was said with enough pride to make him chuckle, and he offered her an earnest smile.

"That you did, Carrots."

She batted her eyes proudly before settling once more into a huff. "Then why… why does he think I can't _do_ anything…" She watched the scene in front of her almost forlornly. Belleweahther being dragged off in cuffs, a few officers who'd gotten late to the scene reading her her rights. Off in the distance a few sirens were blaring while the transition of blue to red to blue to red reflected off the white walls of the museum and turned them into a mardi gra parade.

Her leg was still hurt, and he could see specks of blood staining through the red fabric, a shocking darker stain bubbling through. "You need to have that looked at," he said.

"It's fine."

"Not it's not. There's an ambulance-"

"We have to answer questions." The law's always come first for her. Before anything. Before even herself. And that irks him more than it did when the law was what had been planted on his shoulders. So he sniffs and leans onto security.

"Fine, but after questioning I'm taking you to a hospital."

"I don't like hospitals." It's an admission done subtly, but he can tell that she's serious, for the most part. He should have seen the way she'd averted her eyes from blood, looked away when he'd tied loops around the stuff. And though it isn't much, less than when he'd opened up certainly, it's something and he holds onto it.

"Suck it up. It's getting looked at. But I'll stay with you. Keep the doctors from turning you into Frankenstein."

"That was the Doctors name, not the monster."

"I'm not hearing a no, Poindexter." She doesn't retort, and he takes that as a victory.

Her paw flickered, no doubt wanting to touch her neck again but not wanting him to notice. He noticed anyway.

" _Prey will never trust you."_

" _You actually thought we'd let a Predator so close?"_

His arm slung out, falling around her and pulling her to the side. She stiffened. Froze. Looked up at him curiously. He didn't look at her, didn't give her an idea that anything was a big deal worth mentioning. Just kept her close. At one point his claws touched her neck, pretending to ignore the way her body jerked involuntarily.

He could feel her pulse singing a staccato ballad under sharpened talons. She hadn't yet moved, and despite a heartbeat, he still couldn't feel the rise and fall of air. She'd stopped breathing. Was staying still. Maybe because she was scared. Or maybe to prove a point. To him or herself he couldn't be sure. All he knew was that even if he wasn't the one scaring her, it was something instinctual that had embedded itself deep and fierce and would take time and patience to coax away.

Maybe she'd always be this way. Maybe it was reasonable to believe that Prey always had something to fear from their predators. Nick had always lived in the idea that one had to keep their emotions locked up tight. Never let anyone see that they got to you, and you'd be safe as the day you stopped caring altogether. And he thought that maybe he'd reached that point.

And then Judy Hopps had been true to her name and hopped into his life, subsequently ruining it.

 _She'll always be afraid of you_ , a cruel child lashed out from the back of his mind. _Don't you get that? She'll always be scared of you. She'll never trust you._

He should have shrugged it off. Should have not cared. Should have banished it far into the darkness of side alleyways and the shadows of community centers.

This was the first time that he found he couldn't.

 _I want her to trust me_ , he said back.

When he leaned, just to better adjust how he was sitting, he made sure that his tie bumped her leg. And when claws did once more prick against skin, he made sure to pause a moment to get her used to the feeling before scratching lightly right below her jugular- a steady soothing motion that after some time (far quicker than before) resembled less of a threat and more of a lull that she relaxed into. At one point he felt the pressure of her holding onto the end of the fabric, folding it back and forth, and he let her without comment.

They sat on the steps until the blue and reds faded away down the road and Bogo had briefed them both and they were escorted to the Police station to be asked questions and spoken to until their heads spun.

"You did well." Wilde has a sneaky suspicion that he was speaking to just Judy, but he looks at both of them when he says it, leaning his gaze over his glasses. "Though I will say… A little under the table. Which isn't particularly celebrated. Still."

"I want to come back to the force," Judy says it quickly, looking meaningfully towards her former Chief, hands folded in her small lap. They share the same chair, and Wilde hasn't realized how small she is until this moment. It's a protective sort of thought, and he finds it odd that he doesn't dismiss it altogether. "I quit because I did something against my creed. And… I think I can stick to it now. What I'm meant to do, I mean, sir. Serving the people. All people."

Bogo gives her a look that isn't quite happy, or angry… or much of anything at all. "You could have stayed. You know that, don't you Hopps?"

"No, sir. With all do respect I don't think I could have."

"She did a good job, badge or not." When Wilde speaks up its with a smarmy grin that he realizes the Chief hates, and so he widens it. "I mean, she dragged my sorry ass out of the gutter."

"And you're the Fox that helped solve the case then?"

Nick shrugged. "A few contacts here or there. She's the one that put it all to good use."

Judy's having none of it. "He helped solve the case, Sir. We share the credit." A smile his way. "He's the only thing that got me this far."

"How poetic, Carrots."

She elbows him before turning back. "Could I though? Get my badge back? Come back to the force?"

Nick almost suspects the old Bull to put her through hell for asking. Make her retake tests. Prove her worth. But he's surprised, they both are, when none of that happens. And instead they get something as close to a smile as they ever will. "Of course." His voice wasn't kind, but his words were honest and open. "You're one of our best, Hopps. Not that that should get to your tiny head. But if you want it, your badge is waiting for you on the third floor. Just fill out the paperwork they give you. And… take a day or two off for the leg. But be back after."

"Yes, thank you," she breathed, nodding. Pausing. Looking at the Fox who shared her chair, leaning casually against the creaking back. "Sir?" She has his attention again, and she uses it to her advantage. "I also want a partner."

"We can offer you someone."

"I want someone I already trust, sir." She said. "Not that I don't trust anyone here. I do. But… I want to work with someone I know. Who'll have my back already."

She'd kept his application.

Bogo can't do much about it in the long run. He kept her alive, he kept her safe and he helped when situations were dire. Hopps makes a case. The Fox does his best to work through the stunned look that he's taken up. And he knows from experience that fighting Judy is like ramming your head into a brick wall. You might win, but you'll have a headache for ages to come.

So with a sigh he agrees.

Nick signed it then and there with a smile so large it would sting his face, passing it over towards Bogo, who gruffly stated that information about training and testing would be sent to him within a few business days.

After it was all said and done he took her to the hospital. She'd needed five stitches and strict instructions to take pain medication, which she dutifully swore she'd do. She held onto his tie the whole time, looking around the sterile place with a distrust he found endearing. And for once it felt good to know that he was holding someone together more than a few black sutures ever could.

He wondered if that was what being a Partner would feel like.

He decided, later lounging on his couch, his leg used as a prop to hold hers up, medication already causing her little body to fall into a drowsy stupor, that it must have been.

He wasn't complaining.

* * *

 ** _6 months before_**

It wasn't her fault. It had _never_ been her fault.

But things happened. That was just the way the world, heck- her job, worked.

Nick had watched it all. It must have been seconds, moments before, when he'd called her up on the phone and jibed back and forth about something silly. Something _stupid_ (and he was realizing that for all the years he'd been alone, having a friend was something he truly enjoyed). He'd reserved them a table at some fancy restaurant that his acquaintance (a con man with a skilled paw at fine dining) had told him he could eat at for free if he just gave him a call. Before he wouldn't have even thought to accept. But now he had a friend. A real, honest to god friend. And though it hadn't been long at all, and they still had a ways to go, it felt almost natural to call her up and tell her that if she had plans to cancel them.

"You'll see, Hopps. I'm gonna treat you right." He'd been comparing ties, pulling them out and placing them on the bed, trying to find the one that best went with a somewhat more bougie Hawaiian shirt in the back of his closet. _Pink went with yellows and blues… right?_ "You won't even be able to look at another guy once we're through."

"Is that so?" From the side he'd heard her temporary partner, a Rhino whose name he couldn't remember, rattle something off into the radio. "Are we friends or dating?"

"Can you tell the difference? Come on, Hopps? We're practically together as it is." She'd snorted. "Just make sure to wear something nice. And not _too_ cute. _Akay_? I'd hate to show up with a stuffed animal on my arm."

She sounded like she was going to retort something _especially_ sharp for just a moment, and he had readily prepared himself for the glorious sting, when she'd stopped. "Hold on…" the phone had shuffled, going to her chest most likely. There was a muffled sound in the back. Shouting. "Nick, listen- I'll have to call you right…" The cell phone was hung up before she'd finished, dropped maybe. Or shut. Or maybe both.

Either way, he'd shrugged and kept looking at ties that would match.

It wasn't until a few moments later, moving into his kitchen to grab a drink, that he knew what had happened. He'd turned on the radio. Flipped through stations. Got to a newscast and was about to switch until one of the voices had said his partners name, clear as day. _Officer Judy Hopps_

He didn't remember much else. The words _gunfire_ and _Officer down_ and _reports of a shooting_ all jumbled together into a toxic mess. Then there was blood. He'd dropped his glass, stumbled back on broken shards. His yelp of pain fell on his own deaf ears and he was scrambling across the apartment, chest heaving, heart pounding.

Every item in his medicine cabinet was left spilled onto the floor in a desperate search for bandages, and he'd wrapped the gauze haphazardly around the injury before running back to the room.

He'd had to throw his tie to the side to find his phone, but when he did he'd wasted no time. She was on speed dial. And it was soon ringing, his mouth forming silently around words that wouldn't find their way out - _pick up, pick up, pick up, come on, come on, pick up, pick up-_

 _Hi you've reached Officer Judy Hopps! I can't get to the ph-_

He called again.

 _Hi you've reached Officer Judy Hop-_

And again.

 _Hi you've reached Of-_

And again.

 _Hi you've-_

And after too many calls, after too much time clutching at his shirt and staring down into a dead phone that didn't want to reach her he'd grabbed his keys from the front and had been ready to go out and find her himself when his phone had rang.

" _JUDY_!" He could hear feedback behind his call, his own voice transferring back over the sound of static and police cars and an ambulance. " _Judy_! God, Judy- tell me you're okay!"

"...Nick?"

"Judy, listen to me. I'm coming down. Make sure they bind _everything_. Tell them I don't give a damn if you're a Bunny-"

"...Nick-"

"You keep telling me you can take care of yourself but guess what. I don't _care_. Okay? I _don't_. You're getting treated. I'll drag you there myself. I'll tie you to the hood of my damn car. And I'll- _god_ , Judy _I hate you so much right now_! Just stay there. Have them help you. And don't tell me I'm not officially on the force yet because I'll get down there anyway and-"

"McHorn got shot."

Silence. Long and unfiltered. In the background someone was shouting. Another siren began to wail. Off in the distance he could hear glass being crunched under someone's heel. "He got shot…" She spoke like it was her first time. Maybe even afraid it would be her last. And he realized, with an odd hatred, that he'd never _not_ heard her sound alive. She was a creature of extremes. No matter what emotion, she played it to its fullest.

But at that moment-

"He got shot…" she said again, flat as the earth looked on the shore. "I… I'm staying for questioning. I'll go file papers after."

"Judes…" he wasn't sure if he was meant to be relieved or not. Because his Carrots wasn't hurt -and he wasn't sure when she'd become _his_ but she was very much so- but she didn't sound right. "Let me come down," he offered. "Let me- I can be there in ten minutes."

"No."

"C'mon…" he tried to make it sound like he was smiling even if he wasn't. "Let me be there."

"Nick-"

"I can just stand next to you or something. Keep your dumb Bunny head on your shoulders."

Another pause. "I'm okay." She said the words like punctuation.

"I don't believe you." The words slipped out by accident, but he didn't regret them.

Another siren screeched. And then it was all gone when she, without a quip or a goodbye, hung up.

He cleaned up the glass in the kitchen after that. And then he called to cancel the reservation claiming a family emergency. It took him three beers to be able to function at a somewhat normal level after that- plugging his phone in to charge, finding his papers, mopping his own blood away off the tiles. Waiting for Judy to call him back.

She wouldn't.

He'd put away his clothes still lying out before he went to bed. Picking up his tie, he saw red pawprints on it where blood from his paws had stained a lovely set of pad prints against the light pink. He didn't mind much. It was far from his favorite.

Judy didn't call him the next day. Or the one after. And it wasn't until the fourth long silent streak that he even dared to show his face at the station.

"She hasn't eaten in two days…" Clawhauser rang his paws together, elbows resting on a small sea of paperwork before him. "I _tried_ , Nick! I did! I- she won't _stop_! She hasn't said a _word_ since the last time she came in!"

"Yeah… I heard…" The Fox wrestled with his tie, finishing the knot and hoisting it up towards the base of his neck. "And McHorn-?"

"Oh, he's fine. Thankfully. A shot to the shoulder. Guy just carries weight, went down hard." He might have made a joke about that if the situation wasn't what it was. But it was. And so he didn't. "Poor Judy… she just… we haven't gotten a word out of the poor girl. And Bogo's tried to send her home three times now. Can't seem to do it."

"That's because he's using the wrong tactics."

"He's her boss."

"Yeah," Nick smiled sympathetically (you just don't get it, do you?), "You have to talk to her like she's a dumb bunny. And only I can." It's a vain statement. And really there's a lot riding on it. But he's confident, and most of his life has been made up of bets that he's won. Friendship is just the most imperative of gambles.

"Well, you can do your best. She's at her desk. Down the hall up the stairs. It's the one in the back." Nick thanks him, declines the offered donut, and strolls through, ignoring the gazes of the other officers who seem to know exactly why he's there.

She was there. Piles of paperwork on all sides of her. Empty coffee cups lined the empty spaces that were far and few, and her fingers were stained with the grinds. The bags under her eyes were heavy and her shoulders bore the same weight. Suit rumpled, form sagged, she was a sliver of her former self.

Life wasn't easy. And sometimes it was hard for Nick to understand how she had thought it could have been.

 _Dumb bunny_ , he let himself think affectionately, pushing aside the jeers and chants of children who sat round a campfire and told him that in an ideal world she would have been easy prey.

Her ears flickered when he approached, turning and swishing with less bravado than usual. She knew he was there. He didn't announce himself though. Grabbing the chair from an empty desk behind her, he moved it to her side, the wheels on the legs creaking and moaning. Nick hopped up, sat back and waited.

He was a talker, but he could stay silent if he needed to- and so that's what he did. Looking around the cubicle that didn't much suit her at all. Nothing truly personal lingered. No family photos. No bits or bobs. It might have been too new for her to have lain claim, and he imagined that in a few weeks the place would be awash with personal notes and drawings and whatever else her family had sent over. He wondered for a moment what she'd do if he gave her a picture of him and fondly hoped it would end up there as well. A generous sign of approval, really, that he wanted more than he realized.

The ceiling was covered in spots, and he counted each one. The floor was strewn with dust and the paper circles from hole punchers. And, upon further inspection, her side was stained with a thin layer of rust. Blood, maybe. A twitch of his nose told him that beneath the sourness of two days without wash or change, that yeah, it was blood. He couldn't tell whose.

The silence between them would last a total of forty five minutes and eleven seconds.

She'd be the one to break it.

He planned it that way.

"Aren't you gonna say anything?" she mumbled, tapping her pen against the table, wrist twitching with overuse. "Everyone else has."

"Not unless you want me to," he responded easily, smirking down at her from his chair.

"So why are you here?" It was an aggressive statement, but she sounded too tired to clip. "If you're not going to at least tell me to do something."

"What do you want me to tell you?"

"I don't know." A shrug. A glare at nothing in particular, violet eyes finding anything to look at but him. "Everyone else's already tried to make me leave. Or eat. Or… or sleep. Or go to a doctor or something."

"You hurt, Hopps?" She stiffened. "I'm not gonna drag you by your ears, so relax cottentail. Just asking."

She relented after a moment, but the stiffness didn't leave. "I got dropped. When… when McHorn-"

"Got shot."

"Yeah. Someone hit me from behind." She moved. Hissed. "Maybe a broken rib. I'm not sure."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"I can't force you to do anything. You're a big bunny." He leaned back, the chair following to let him with a complaining _screek_.

"Then _why are you here_." She asks it a second time, but she speaks it like it's the tenth, full of venom and poison and something deliberately toxic. He's known her for so little in what span of time they've been together, and yet someone he's gotten good enough at telling apart the waste from the wonder. She's never been anything but an optimist, and her pockets of pessimism are fueled with nothing more than circumstance.

Judy Hopps is a tryer. And he's not going to let her stop seeing the world that way.

"I'm just here," he says, moving forward. His elbows fall to his knees and he's reaching out to touch her face, pull it towards his. She doesn't let go of her pen. But her glare falters, and it's in that glitch that he sees through to it all. She picked the wrong person to be friends with, really. He's always been good at knowing things. Always will be. And nothing will ever be hidden.

"Carrots…" She tries to look away. He holds her there. "It wasn't your fault, Carrots."

The first few tears fall to the floor, but the ones after mat his fur and fall against his wrist. He moves his thumb back and forth where it lies, and it's a juxtaposition to the sly smirk he's wearing. "It wasn't your fault."

"You weren't there." Judy's voice cracks, and the words have a meaning underneath that says _please just blame me because I need someone to hate me besides myself_. But she really has picked the wrong friend. Nick's not sure he could ever hate Judy Hopps. "He went… he went down, Nick. And I got caught. It was sloppy. I couldn't change _anything_."

"It's not your fault, Carrots."

"I could've stopped something."

"You know that's not true."

"If he'd had a bigger partner-"

"Then they'd have two mammals in the hospital right now."

"I'm a bad cop."

"We both know that's a lie." She's still crying, but she's stopped noticing. "What do you want, Hopps. I can't give you the moon" _though he'd damn well give it a try if she asked_ "but I can at least get you something that's here."

She thinks and her pen tapps a frantic tune against the desk, fueled by her own hysteria that she's yet to let out. Nick is a creature of outward emotion. He always has been. Judy's been the one to keep it all inside until it bursts. And he's starting to see the real downfall of it. She's gonna kill herself one day.

No. He wouldn't let her. Stupid, dumb Bunny.

"Carrots?"

"Yeah."

"What do you want."

The pen stops tapping. Her inhale is shaky, but she's breathing, and her fist comes up to wipe away at her tears. "I think…" she rasps, "I think I want to go home."

"Well, I can't do that. I'm not letting you stay on your own. Don't know what your dumb bunny brain will make you do." She deflates and he waves her off. "But tell you what, I'll give you second best." He hops of the chair and holds out his hand. "Come on Carrots. Let's go."

Clawhauser is obviously impressed that he got her to abandon paperwork. Or maybe he's just impressed that she's up and about at all. "Bye, Judy sweetheart," the portly Predator waves her out, smiling when she turns to offer a slight grin and a wave back. "Feel better, alright?"

"She'll be just fine!" Nick promised, hooking his arm in hers and escorting her jauntily out. The light him them and she had to pause, squinting in the sun. He pulled her along with him anyway, patting her hand from where it rested on the inside of his arm. "You're a trouble and a half, aren't you?" She didn't respond. But he could have sworn that she smiled.

He takes her to his apartment, and they sit outside on the cracked steps leading to the complex and watch the sun set. It's mundane. And it's boring. And maybe it's a little slow for his tastes. But his tastes are changing, and he leans back against the scuffed stone of a step behind him and winds his arm around her and doesn't say a word.

She reached over at some point, winding her fingers around the long piece of fabric at his neck. Maybe she realized she was doing it. Maybe she didn't. But whatever the reason, she found herself needing to do something,

He tugged her tight against his side. His long snout rested on her head and she leaned into him. The silence was a pure one, but it wasn't heavy and the dimming light from above the tops of the buildings, burning a vengeance into the outline of the city before them, was a cooling one. Nick offered her a beer, but she was already too far off and didn't seem to see him so he rested it behind them. She folded his tie over her wrist, looking at nothing in particular.

"You know that you couldn't have done anything, right?" He says it again because she needs to hear it. And he knows she's thinking it. And it hurts that she doesn't believe it.

She twisted his tie between her fingers. The sunsets receding rays shone on the polyester and made it gleam.

"Carrots?" Her hands against blue and red and purple stalled for just a moment before continuing their mindless ministrations. He put his paw over hers and she stopped again. He could feel the ones beneath his shaking. He didn't make her let go, though, and she was both silently confused and grateful. Her fist clutched tighter. "There's nothing you could have done," he said again. "You're the best person I know. And he doesn't blame you either. And you really are a dumb rabbit if you think he does." She goes back to his tie, winding it about her wrist with shaking hands.

Judy didn't speak for the rest of the night. And he didn't make her.

At some point he pinched her elbow gently to get her to move, helping her stand, guiding her inside. It had gotten cold, and she was more prone to it than he was. She padded along, eyes to the ground, fingers still wound in cheap fabric and bright, tacky stripes. His paw stayed on her shoulder. Together they walked up the stairs and with an arm still around her, her hands still in his tie, he rooted for his keys. It took some time with only one hand, but he did find them, sticking them into the lock and opening the door.

She didn't move. So he made her. Giving her a push towards the ratty, soft couch that sat against the back wall of his living room facing the television that they wouldn't turn on for some time. He didn't click on the radio, he didn't start any music, and he didn't turn on a light. They just sat together in the receding light and the cool silence.

They sat in the quiet of his apartment for the rest of the night. He got a little water into her, and she stared out the window while condensation from the glass matted the fur at her wrist. He kept her close, tucked into his side, and she refused to release her hold on the fabric at his neck, pressing her face against the bright green ferns at his chest. Through his shirt he could feel her nose wiggling, the quick breaths brushing and tickling. He just leaned his muzzle on her head and let her be.

It doesn't take Nick long to realize that he really could have just taken his tie off and left. She didn't seem like she was going anywhere anyway, and if she wanted the damn thing then she could have it. But he didn't, and willfully trapped himself in place, not really sure why but knowing exactly why all the same.

"You're more trouble than you're worth," he told the still mammal at his side. "That's not true. That's a lie. You're the right amount of trouble." Her ears were drooped and he gave them a tug. "I'd say you were no trouble. But you are. You're lots of trouble. You're just worth it all." She buried her face against him after that, and her puffs of breath heated his side.

It wasn't until the moon had already begun its trip through the sky and the stars began to fade into light pollution that she fell asleep. Her fingers gently plucking against the wrinkles and bends of his necktie, she'd finally drifted off with her head tucked under his and his tail circling the place that she sat. He didn't move her. Then again, he didn't want to. And before he fell asleep himself he groped for the spare blanket on the back of the couch, pulling it down to rest over her, not willing to detangle her soft digits off of the thing that she had somehow claimed as her own.

The next morning when he did wake up, she was gone from her place. He would blink into the sunshine, rubbing the sleep that had clumped into the corners of his eyes.

"If you give me your tie, I'll iron it." Her voice from the tiny kitchen around the corner had him shifting to look about, and he could see her just poking her head out around the side into his meager living room. He blinked at her.

"Wha-"

"Your tie." She gestured at it. "It's really wrinkled."

He looked down, holding the thing up in the light. It was indeed horribly wrinkled, with lines skewed this way and that up and down the surface, looking more like the map of the subway than a dress wear accessory. "Huh…" he hummed, looking back at her with a sneer. "Wonder how that happened.

Her ears flickered back a moment in guilt, and she looked like she was about to apologize, but he waved her off. "It gets wrinkled all the time. Could've been anything, Carrots." he stood, stretching until his spine popped. "Must have been the humidity yesterday. I'll iron it later."

"Huh," she nodded. "Okay." She looked back into the kitchen. "You should come in here, by the way. I made blueberry pancakes. They're gonna burn."

She made damn good pancakes, he discovered. Which was something he was gonna be taking advantage of far too much in the future.

He didn't mention the night before.

Neither did she.

But they both didn't mind.

It hadn't exactly been the first time, and it wouldn't be the last. And Nick would find that he had to actually invest in a better iron when he discovered his soon to be partners strange habit. The odd thing was that he never really tried to stop her. And really, he realized, after one such occasion where she'd fiddled with his tie again after he'd gotten close enough for it to hang near her, it wasn't much about the tie at all. He'd asked her to hold one on a random afternoon and she hadn't so much as twisted the thing.

He realized, with no shortage of preening, that it was more or less about what the tie was attached to.

He'd never tell her that he knew. And it was one of the few things he wouldn't tease her for.

He'd also never tell her how much he adored her for it.

* * *

 **90 Days Before**

It was a Saturday afternoon when he'd wandered over to her apartment to help fix a leaking pipe. She'd explained to him the day before while they both sat at her desk that she could do it fine herself. She'd done more on her farm in the past then he could attest for, and was a seasoned mechanic and plumber. "I just have to pop down to the Burrow Depot and grab some things," she'd said to her laptop screen, sitting in the wheely chair at her desk. He'd brought her a coffee as a surprise, and she'd happily accepted. "It'll be fine!"

"But you have to _pay_ for those things." His muzzle wrinkled in a faux snarl. "Why would you _pay_."

"Because then I'll get quality work and it'll all be fine!"

"No. No, no, _nope_!" He popped his 'p'. There was an empty desk behind her own, a set of two small spaces inside of one boxed cubicle. Whether there had been someone there or not before, it didn't matter. He'd claimed it as his own, and despite what everyone else had told him about office spaces and assigned seating he'd done his best to retaliate by filling the top drawer with cookies and dried crickets and sundry from his kitchen cabinet and decorating the fabric pin board with pictures of himself and Judy that she'd scoffed and rejected with heavy sighs but he'd seen her smile at once she thought his back was turned.

He turned round in the wheely, giving the back of her chair a kick. "You're not gonna pay. I'm gonna come over and show you how to fix things the _city_ way."

She scowled, scootching away. He just moved closer, stitching his paws into the chair and pulling it back towards him. "Yeah… but I know how to fix things the _real_ way."

"You wound me. But I still stand." Resting his snout on her shoulder he reached over and stole her coffee with one long armed swipe where it had rested in her hand. Nick gave it a long drain, smirking when she did her best to take it back and failed. He took another sip before handing it back almost empty. "I'll show you how, Carrots. And you'll thank me for the rest of time."

"Uh huh…" she moped down at her coffee, drinking the rest. "Sure."

"You will!" Twisting around, his chair complaining with a squeal, he leaned until the backs of their heads lightly thunked together. "You'll see, Judy. Just you _wait_."

He waited for her to finish, goading her the whole time with rubber band tricks until she forgot about work before teaching her to play cat's cradle and then reminding her that reports were due. Feet propped on his own desk, he passed her pens and answered questions with a chocolate cookie held between his teeth. And when she was done they left together, still talking about plumbing and rubber band tricks.

The next day he'd arrived at her place with supplies. Or rather a small bag with a ham sandwich, his wallet and the precious object with which he'd patch her apartment up with, holding it aloft with all the pride of a handyman and his toolbox.

"Duct tape?" She held the roll aloft, brow raised skeptically. "You're joking. You're gonna fix my pipes with _duct tape_."

"It's an age old trick, Carrots. Came up with it _long_ before you were born. Pretty sure my ancestors used it before the both of us."

"Sure they did."

He ripped off a piece, lunging as if to slap it over her mouth, but she caught him in time, grabbing the sticky thing and balling it up in her paws with a glare. "Yeah…" she hissed up at him. "Real mature, Nick."

"Hush. Don't talk to your elders like that."

"Uh huh. Whatever you say old man."

He made sure to flick her in the back of the head for that one.

Everything seemed to be going alright. He'd loosened his tie and had been leaning against the wall, wrapping the silver stuff around the pipes with a tenacity that she rarely saw in him. The piping was old. Most likely when the building was first made. And it sat on the outside of the exposed brick next to her refrigerator leading into the cabinet beneath her small sink. The middle where two pipes had been fused was falling victim to old bolts and had begun to leak. Wilde had hoed and hummed over it (while she told him that it would just take some new bolts and a welding iron) and decided that duct tape was indeed the correct solution. Two hours in, the fur on his paws matted, she'd suggested they take a break. "I have a comb in my closet," she offered to him, looking through one of her many binders lined up on her small desk and choosing a few takeout places they could both eat at. "You can get all the gunk out."

"Will do." He wandered off towards the door in the small one room she occupied, opening it to the plethora of drawers, coat hangers and knick knacks.

She'd been thumbing through an Indian place they'd both liked a lot the last time he'd been over to go over case files when his shriek had nearly sent her tumbling off her chair.

"Wilde- _what_! Are you-"

"What is _this_!"

"What's what?"

"This!"

She twisted from her place on the chair. "Um… my tie?" It was indeed her tie. The tiny piece of fabric almost comically small next to Nick Wilde, held between his fingers like it was Jack and he was the Giant, fee-fi-fo-fumming his way about. "What's wrong with it?"

"It's a _clip on_!"

"So." She shrugged. Pushing the binder to the side, she went back to the floor where her equipment lay. She picked up the manual and fanned herself with it. "There wasn't a requirement for any kind. I just got what I needed for my formal police attire. Do you want Indian or Chinese? I could go for Thai though."

He didn't want anything. At least not until the offensive item was dealt with. He gave it a shake. "How can you even think about _food_ right now, Judes. When it's _clip on_!"

"It's just a tie." She shrugged, leaning against the manual and looking over one shoulder. "So what?"

"I'm sorry. _Maybe you didn't hear me_." She certainly would hear him when the fabric was whipping out to beam her across the side of the head. She shot up, the manual tumbling to the floor in a sad and informative heap.

"Hey!"

"This isn't a _tie_ ," he continued easily, waving it in her face. "This, my dearest carrot nibbling friend, is a _clip on_. Which does not designate a proper _dress wear accessory_."

"Yes it does!" She tried to make a grab for it, but he wrenched it out of the way before she could.

"Not it doesn't. Clip ons aren't for adults who do adult things. They're for _dress up_. Which would make sense on a stuffed animal like yourself." She took another swat at him. He ducked with a cackle. "Not that you aren't _adorable_ , Carrots. But I think it's time for you to move on to more grown up things, don't you? Take the training wheels off and all that!"

"You're hilarious, Wilde," she deadpanned, moving away to scoop her read off the floor. "Just a real _hoot_."

"Aw come on, Carrots! Don't be like that!"

"Go away. I'm reading."

" _Carrots_!"

"Still reading, Wilde." She stuck the book closer to her face, glaring at a rather thrilling section about wall spackle and its use in old housing units. "You're distracting me. You and your stupid clip on tie."

"Actually it's _your_ stupid clip on tie. And I agree. It's distracting. And I don't think I can help you fix _anything_ until we figure out how to rid you of this horrible blow you've been dealt." He stared it down, was first to blink, scowled. And then his face lit up. "I know! I'll take it!" He nodded, deciding it to be a great idea. "I'm taking this," he announced. "Because it's _awful_ and you're too good for it."

The manual was on the floor again, dropped by a frantic wide eyed bunny who sprang on her heels in an attempt to cut him off. "Wilde, no!"

"I'm gonna burn it. And you'll have to move that fuzzy little tail of yours down to the department stores and get a new one." He shook his own tail for emphasis, giving his back a little wiggle. "But hey! Maybe they'll take pitty on someone who still is growing into their big girl shorts!"

" _Nick_!"

"Say bye bye to the tie tie, Darlin'!"

Her arm reaching out in desperation, grabbing his elbow, was enough. His little teasing light footed saunter had left him unballenced, and she'd been the final straw. He tripped over his own foot and she reached out again to grab him. But both were too late, and his back lightly brushed the pipe they'd been working on just moments before. They tumbled to the ground, him catching her before she could land on her ears, grabbing her to his chest. For a moment they lay there, stacked like lumber, both staring up at her badly spackled ceiling.

"Well…" his chest was rising and falling, the Rabbit on top traveling with every in and exhale. He gave a little stretch and found himself mostly unharmed, though his back did have a rather nice crick in it now that protested violently. "... That was… something…"

She nodded, the back of her head thunking against him. "Yup…" she panted. "Never letting you take something from me again. You should remember now that I can take down Rhino's."

"I'll take that into consideration." He flicked at her ear. "I'm still taking the tie."

"No you're not."

"Yeah I am." He rubbed the back of his head hissing. "You're lucky I have a hard head, Rabbit. Or this could have been a whole lot wor-"

The spray of water was on them before they'd had a chance to say anything.

Somehow, though, Judy still found a way. "I hate you…" she mumbled from on top of him, soaking wet and glaring at the ceiling. "I _hate_ you, Nicholas P. Wilde."

It wouldn't be until he'd pushed her off, used her tie as a shield from the onslaught of water, tied a fresh roll of duct tape on around the pipe and had managed to splutter out a few curses, reaching down to shut off the main valve, that everything finally calmed. To a degree at least.

"You ruined my tie…" she grumbled, wringing out the poor, rusted and abused thing. "I can't believe that you _ruined my only tie_."

"Eh, it deserved it. Should have learned to tie itself."

"I _hate_ you."

"No you don't, Carrots," he sang cheerily before grabbing a towel from next to him, whistling a tune while he dropped the fluffy thing over her head, giving it a good few rubs and ignoring every muffled protest from beneath. "I know for a _fact_ that you don't!"

He didn't see her fist coming before it connected with his arm.

* * *

 **62 Days Before**

Nick Wilde wasn't going on a date. But he did have someone to impress.

"I've gotta make money somehow, Carrots," he told her evenly. "We can't all live off joy and rainbows like you do."

"I have a paycheck, you know!" She crossed her arms, but a smile flickered its way onto her face anyway. "You really think I live off joy?"

"Uh huh. Sure. Which one?" He held up a large hanging bar he'd plucked out of his closet, letting it swing slowly back and forth before her. She'd originally headed over to his place to watch some show he'd been dying to make her see. But one beer and two grilled cheeses later and discussions had turned into one's of profit. Turned out, Nick had failed to mention (willfully so) that his little hustling business wasn't quite as over as she'd first imagined.

"You want me to choose the tie you're going to sell _faulty goods_ to someone in? No way! I'm not _doing that_!"

"They aren't _faulty goods_ , Carrots. They're _used_ goods. A little… overused. But they still work! I'm just helping out a friend, getting a share of the cut, you know?" She offered him a desperately faltering look, her mouth hanging, palms turned up. "I'm not doing my own business anymore. And the reason behind it is you. I hope you know that. And _appreciate_ it."

"I'd appreciate it more if you weren't still _conning people_!"

"Why Carrots!" A hand to his chest, breaths coming out in short little offended gasps. "I'm _wounded_. And here I thought we were doing so well."

"We were- _are_! But you're going out there to do illegal things and-"

"Ah ah ah!" A paw waving in her face cut her off. "Not illegal! Still have permits, Fuzzy Wuzzy. Still untouchable by the rest of the feds and _you_!"

"You shouldn't be saying that around me! I'm still a _cop_!"

"You're not a cop now. You're someone helping me pick out a tie. So hop to it!"

She huffed. But after a moment, when it became clear that Nick was always going to be Nick, she gave in and motioned weakly to one of the less _loudly_ designed horror shows that he had the gall to call mens wear. "That one."

"Ooh! Orange and blue, nice choice! Got this one awhile back." He plucked it off, whisking it about his collar. "This one looks great with me."

"No. It doesn't."

"You know, for someone who solved the biggest case in Zootopia, I think you somehow missed the most savage animal of them all."

"I'm wounded. You've wounded me."

He'd laugh, finish tying the monstrosity about his neck and ruffle the fur between his ears. "My only job is to annoy you."

"So I've noticed."

"Oh drat. And I thought I was being _subtle_." She'd swat at him and he'd bounce back cackling. "Now get off the bed and help me get ready! Finnick's gonna be here in a few minutes to help me. Hey! You've got huge eyes! Wanna play a baby."

"I'm _not_ scamming with you, Nick!"

"Oh calm down. It wouldn't be against the law. I'd never make you betray your one love. It would be strictly no pay."

"Nick!"

He'd barely duck out in time to avoid the tie rack being thrown at him, her laughter seeping through the door, collecting on the floor with the downed strings of fabric the testament to her true anger and how much of it she'd learned to leave behind.

* * *

 **30 Days Before**

"Alright Carrots! Today's the day!" he told her, presenting her with a small box one rainy Thursday afternoon. They were sitting in her apartment at her small plastic kitchen table going over the final few test questions in his practice book that she'd been nice enough to let him borrow from off her shelf. There was a bowl of blueberries between them that she'd hoped to share at the beginning of their study session but had mostly disappeared the moment the Fox had locked eyes.

She looked up, reaching for a blueberry and popping it into her mouth. "Time for what?"

He offered her the box again, sliding it across the table before trying to grab a handful of blueberries. She slapped his hand away with her pencil, ignoring the way he glared at her before taking more, leaving few behind. "You'd better have more of those…" he tipped the bowl.

"Fridge." He was out of his seat before she could do anything to stop him, and for a few moments all she could see was his fuzzy tail and the back of his green shirt as he rooted around, bottles from the beer she was saving for later clanking together. "What's it time for?" she asked again, giving the box a poke. It was white and plain and small. But she knew well enough by then to know that _plain_ was generally deceptive when it came to Nicholas Wilde.

"It's time…" he called back from out of the refrigerator. "For you to- _haha_!" He held up the container of blueberries marked _Hopps Family Farm_ on its side in victory, shutting the door before prancing back to the table and dropping the entire thing in front of him.

"Can't you _share_!" She made a grab. He flicked at her with his claws.

"Nope." He pointed at the box. "Are you gonna open it, Carrots?"

"... what is it?"

"That's what opening it is for," he drawled. Popping a handful of berries into his maw he chomped down. "Generally presents are to be _opened_. You know… because they're _presents_."

"Is this how gifts are always going to be with you, Wilde?" She gave the thing a shake, hearing something soft clunking against the sides. "Wrapped in sarcasm?"

" _Always_. Now _open it_!"

She finally did, if not only to appease him but her own curiosity. An old saying about curiosity and cats popped into her mind but she brushed it away in favor of lifting the lid slowly. Not really sure what to expect, she was a little underwhelmed by what she saw.

"It's…" she tilted her head. "It's a… _square_ …"

It was. Sitting on top of a small collection of white tissue paper with some department store logo stamped across it in sepia filigree, the thing on top sat innocently looking up at her. A piece of navy fabric with almost invisible darker stripes lingering against it. She gave the thing a poke. And while it didn't bite her, it did feel strange and smooth and cool to the touch. "Thanks!" She strained a grin, batting her eyes up. "Um… I'll… I'll _totally_ use it-"

Nick snorted, pushing the blueberries to his elbow before grabbing the dark blue square out of its box, letting it unroll in the air. "No, Dumb Bunny. It's not a _square_. It's a _tie_."

And so it was. Once it was finally draping down the table, folding over itself like a scroll of the ancients, she could indeed see that it _was_ a tie. Shorter than the one Nick himself was wearing she could only assume that he'd had to find ones fit for smaller mammals before he'd had to purchase it. She gave it another poke, cocking her head in confusion. "It's really nice," she said. And while her tone was still awkward and confused, at least that wasn't a lie. It _was_ a nice tie. "But… why did you get me one?"

"Because no Partner of mine is going to be wearing a _clip on_." He shuddered at the word, ears plastered back, as if the very idea of the convenience repulsed him. "No way. No how."

"Nick, I don't actually have to _know_ how to do this."

"If you're going to be my partner then you're gonna have to learn." He put on a dramatic voice that reminded her too much of an old crime boss, sticking one of his paws into her face before crowing, "I ain't sharin' a ride with you, doll, until you look _suave,_ see?"

"Har har." She batted him away. "You know I only wear the tie for special occasions, right?"

"You wear it on duty sometimes."

"Yeah. _Sometimes_. But only for _guard duty_! And that's, like, once a month!"

"So then once a month you'll look put together and not like a fixed carnival game prize." Her ears shot up in offense, mouth opening and closing, looking for something to shoot back.

"You…! _You_ …!" He offered her a smug look, leaning his elbow on the table, his chin resting in his palm. They stared one another down for a few more moments, Fox against Rabbit. Predator against Prey. She went to say something else and his eyebrows rose. _Try me, Carrots. Just try me_. In the end she gave up. She ended up just grabbing a blueberry and throwing it at his face, which would have been a lot more therapeutic if he hadn't skillfully snapped his teeth around the projectile. Which he had. Which was really, really aggravating.

Predator: 1

Prey: 0

"Fine," she muttered, snatching the long strand of fabric from him. "I'll put on your stupid tie."

" _Splendid_! That's the spirit!"

She suppressed a growl. He just smirked again. "Don't think I don't know what you're doing, though."

"And what, pray tell, am I doing?"

"You're procrastinating." She pointed out flatly.

"Oh you poor, simple minded Bunny. Of _course_ I am! I thought you'd have figured that out by now!" He let out a guffaw when she pulled a face, rising from the table, pushing his seat behind him with a bump of his hip. "Now come on! We're gonna get you learning in no time."

She had an old mirror that her mother had shipped over from the Burrow next to her bed. It had belonged to her grandmother, or great grandmother, or something like that. A tall, thin thing surrounded by wooden carvings of carrots, she'd propped it against her wall and used it sparsely to shine her badge and check if her vest was pulled down all the way where it tended to bunch up in the back. It was a family heirloom, and had seen Bunny's, Bunny's, and more Bunny's since the moment its frame had been carved.

And today, apparently, not only would it see a Bunny, but it would also see a Fox.

She was fairly sure that her however great grandmother would have had an aneurysm before dying a second time over if she knew that.

It was an odd image, Judy had to concede. Such classic enemies standing side by side, the Predator sidled closer to the Prey in said Rabbits bedroom. Odder still that the closeness and the strangeness was something she was getting to affiliate with a safety.

Though at the moment, the Fox by her side was offering less of a safe space and more of a _let's see how many ways we can make Judy annoyed today_ sort of deal.

Kneeling in front of her, their faces even heights (a rare event to be sure) he had looped her newly gifted accessory around the collar of her pink button up, popping the collar to make sure to was underneath all the way before smoothing it back out.

"So we're doing a pratt knot," he mused, looking down at the two strips of fabric in his hand, measuring the thing around her neck with a squint and a purse of his lips.

"There are _different knots_!" She looked down at his paws when he gave the shorter end another tug. "Are you _kidding me_!?"

"Of course there are." He seemed satisfied with the length and let the two drop against her shoulders. She looked down, touching the thing that now hung about her neck. He swatted her hand away, standing up and stepping back to cross his arms and leer at her from down his muzzle. "You wouldn't wear sweatpants to a wedding, would you?"

"No…" she muttered, before adding, with a little more sass than she needed, "but I also wouldn't walk around looking like a melting color wheel…" She ducked away when he went to deck her on the back of the head but was too slow, and glowered when he caught her ears, giving them a hearty tug. "Ow!"

"I'll have you know that I'm _very_ well dressed." He tightened the knot of his own tie, giving it a little, proud wiggle. "You can't say that any of your other friends wear khakis and dress shirts every day _can you_?"

"Your dress shirt makes you look like a tourist," she offered sourly. "And the tie doesn't match."

"The tie matches _everything_. And the dress shirt is _dignified_. At least I have more common sense then to wear a floppy sun hat."

"Why you-!"

He chortled, flicking her nose, stepping away quickly before she could get a decent shot at his arm. "Tease me all you want, Carrots. I'll always be one step ahead."

"Just you wait…"

"Uh huh. Sure." He reached down to eye the tie lengths again, nodding to himself. "Alright, you ready?"

"No."

"Good." He hooked a claw into the knot at his neck and gave a quick tug. The entire thing untangled with the assistance of a few more easy pulls and soon enough he stood there holding his own tie out in front of her, letting it swing back and forth like a ticking pendulum, counting down the moments until he'd put her through business casual hell.

Judy had to take a second to stare at him.

 _At least wear a tie that fits_ , she had told him once. _Or one that matches._

She hadn't realized how strange he'd look without it. Wilde without his tie was something she'd never get used to seeing. Not really, at least. And it sometimes surprised her how right he was when he said that he was a born business man. That he and his tie were the same thing. Because really… they were. Nicholas Wilde without his tie was the same as the beach without water or the sky without clouds. An occurrence, to be sure. But a rare and marveling one.

"Something wrong, Carrots?" he teased.

"You look _so much better_ with your tie," she told him honestly. "I take back everything."

He looked shocked a moment. And then stunned. And then his face reset to default- smug and cocksure. "Ha! Finally! Got you to admit it!" He whipped it out, batting her in the shoulder with the blue and red and magenta stripes. "Face it Hopps. I'm devilishly handsome!"

"Are you looking to get slugged, Slick?"

" _Say it_ ," he sang. "You _love_ me!"

"Cut it out."

"Aw don't worry, Carrots. I'm flattered. You have good taste."

She scoffed, snorted, lightly cuffed him on the arm. "Are you gonna show me how to do this or not."

"See. Now you're procrastinating too."

"Oh be quiet."

"I'm _winning_!"

"I will drag your sorry tail back to that study table, Wilde, don't test me."

If Nick had to commend Judy on one thing, even before he had realized that the animal he'd become somewhat linked to through more cunning and inconvenient ways was to be his friend, was her tenacity. He guessed it must have been a trait of Rabbits from large families (and she'd explained to him one night over stale beer that no, not all Rabbit families exceeded the populations of an entire state on their own) and a need to exceed, come out on top and prove herself. While sometimes a flaw in his Dumb, self righteous Bunnies character, it acted as the best of bases when the proper reactors were set in their place

"Alright, so you're going to want to fold it over."

"Like… uh… this?" She tugged the longer side. He snorted.

"If you're trying to tie your shoes, you're doing _great_." She growled. He chuckled, leaning over. "Here." He flipped the tie around, letting the back face out on the shorter end. "Now cross that over the other. But keep it the same length."

"Where did you even learn how to do this?" She tried again, frustrated when the result was a little less than the beginnings of an 'x' that would do her little good.

"My mom taught me."

She looked at him as soon as the words were uttered, tilting her head. "Your mom."

"Yeah- here, cross this one over." He wasn't looking at her. And it took her a beat to see that it was intentional.

She did what he asked, a little more distracted. "I didn't know that." She fiddled with the tie the same way she would have his. He slapped her hands away.

"You're going to wrinkle it! It's brand new!"

"Where's your mom."

He didn't answer at first. She was sure he was too busy reciting creeds of _never let them see_ through his head. Eyes cool, mouth drawn into a loose smirk, it would have seemed to anyone else to be the mark of a composed predator unphased by any silly Prey with little questions. But she wasn't just anyone, and she noticed the way that his ears tucked back, flinching to settle back across his skull. "Nick?"

His eyes darted away, finding something else to look at. "Hm."

"Your mom… Where-"

"Not around anymore." He told her. "That's all."

It was clear that the subject was being dropped. For a Fox who was so quick to delve out affection he'd never been quick to open up his own feelings. It was the closest she'd gotten though, and she had to commend herself for even wrestling those few words out. Still her ears found themselves drooping, her fingers fiddling again. "Sorry…" she muttered. "Didn't mean to pry." Maybe he noticed. Maybe he didn't. But he at least let out an awkward sort of cough, rubbing the back of his head.

"It's alright, Carrots." His smile was fake, but the tone was sincere, and she leaned on that. And through the kind way his eyes sparkled she could only hope that one day he'd be more willing.

He would be.

"C'mon," she nudged him with her hip, intent on letting silences be filled up once more with things that were so quintessentially them. "If you're going to be teaching you might as well do it right."

For the rest of the hour spent in front of that mirror she knotted and plucked until her hands were sore from too many complicated patterns . At one point, when her frustration was ready for its breaking point, he'd delved some mercy and showed her with his own, and the two of them sat side by side while he patiently helped her twist and turn and tuck fabric.

Her masochism would pay off.

"I did it!" It was messy and skewed and off center. And it didn't look like much by far. But he wasn't going to shatter her dreams. Not when she pattered off to the mirror hanging up by her bed, fiddling with the newfound knot the same way she'd seen him do in the past. A terrible attempt really. Stumped by his own when he came up behind her, fixing his own tie with a vain sort of preening that only the cockiest seemed to possess. "Nick! Look!" She made a quick turn to beam up at him, showing him her own.

It had taken a little over an hour. She'd never been good at puzzles, the concept of sitting still for projects near boggling, but she'd been determined. And around the 47th time she'd followed along his almost _effortless_ motions, she'd picked up a few little movements that had escaped her, following one end through another until she'd found herself standing in front of a business casual Bunny looking as happy as a she had once standing on a stage receiving her badge.

"How's it look?"

He leaned against a wall, propping one foot over the other. "Do you want an honest answer?"

"Come _on_!" She batted at him, holding her new tie up in the air. "Tell me!"

He rolled his eyes, but took it all the same, turning it this way and that in the dull light. "Good…" he hummed, letting it fall to bounce off of her chest. "... for a first try."

"What! This is perfect!"

"It's _sloppy_ , Carrots. _Scruffy_ at best. But I admire the effort. Really. Good first day of teaching."

"Oh no no no! You can't leave!" She pulled at the knot, dull claws a difficult thing to have when fumbling with dresswear. She let out a little growl. "We have to get this perfectly!"

"Carrots, we already tried-"

The Rabbit before him struck a pose, grabbing at the tie, finally undoing it. "Then we'll try it again!"

Some days, Nick knew it was a strange gift that he was so patient. Looking back, he'd have to have thanked his mother for that one. God knows he had been a handful. With a sigh, he undid his own tie. "Alright, Carrots," he huffed without any real animosity in the tone. "Let's go."

She was already dragging him back to the mirror, slipping the flopsy thing over her neck. He shook his head, reaching down and adjusting the length before letting her at it.

* * *

 **2 Weeks Before**

She hands him the red handkerchief one day after they leave a small ice cream store not far from her apartment. Folding it into his hand and ducking her head shyly.

"I got it cleaned," she explains softly. "To say... you know..."

He unfolds it and finds no blood, no trace of markings besides the ones meant to be there. He smiles.

And he stops her, winding it around her neck like a sash, laughing when she huffs at the ridiculousness of the look. "You keep it," he says, stepping back to eye his creation with an easy sort of amusement. "It looks better on you."

"I look like a twelve year old."

"No," he promised, dragging her close before continuing their walk, side by side. "You look like good memories."

She doesn't respond to that. But against his waist he can feel the way her ears perk up at her grin.

* * *

 **1 Week Before**

"Are you nervous?" she asks him, practicing tying her new tie in the mirror of his bathroom. She brings it everywhere and it always doing her best to take a few minutes a day and remember every step. On the bus. On the train. Sitting at her desk in the slower moments.

He's busy brushing his teeth. It's early, and she'd barged her way in wearing workout clothes and a smile, ready to take him out running. Preparation, she'd called it after whisking away his covers. He'd corrected her with a growl around the world _torture_.

"No," he said, running the bristles across his canines.

"Aren't you... I don't know... just a _little_ bit scared?"

"No." He spit. Smiled. Through the suds his sharpened fangs gleamed. "Not really. Should I be?"

"I dunno. Maybe." She kicked her feet, and the heel of one landed lightly against his bathtub. It was a small room with white tile that had gone mostly yellow, a drippy shower cap taking over by calcium and rust and a sink near the door with a medicine cabinet that doubled as a mirror, almost too dirty to see through. The light above them made a faint _whirring_ noise when it was turned on, and it fell in tune with the a/c she could still hear humming from his bedroom down the hall. "I was nervous. Really nervous."

"That's because you're a dumb bunny." He bent down and scooped water into his mouth, sloshing it around before spitting it down the drain. Another scoop found cold water on his face and he groped for a towel. "I'm a sly fox. I'm never scared."

"Yeah right."

"No. It's true." Throwing the towel towards her he smirked when it landed on top of her head, muffling her indignant squeak. "I'm far too clever to be scared of anything."

"You're a _liar_ , that's what."

"Please."

"Last week you told me-"

"I _told_ you something? Nope. Doesn't sound like me at all. I don't talk. I'm not one for any of that lovey dovey crap."

"You're more affectionate than I am!"

"Psh. Spare me, Carrots." He leaned against his door, and he had to marvel at the whole situation a moment. He'd been woken up by another mammal who had entered his apartment. His bedroom. His _private space_. His _sanctuary_. And now she was sitting on his bathtub listing away fears while he stood in front of her in an old and rumpled white t-shirt and a pair of bright green and yellow polka dotted boxers.

He'd never been this vulnerable with anyone.

And he'd never expected that it would have been as mundane as this.

Just another morning. That's all this was becoming. Routine.

He was finding that he liked routine.

"I'm fine, Carrots," he promised her, flicking off the light and leaving her to scramble her way through the dark, pushing her out the door when she nearly bumped into him. "I'm gonna get dressed. Grab two bowls from the kitchen. I picked up your favorite cereal. Milk and blueberries are in the fridge. And _put down that damn tie you're gonna stain it_!"

Yeah. Routine was good.

* * *

 **5 Hours Before**

"Have you ever heard the absence makes the heart grow fonder," he teased after she'd knocked for a good three minutes, coaxing him out of his warm bed to the door where he was currently propping himself against the jam.

"Yes," she answered. "But you barged over to my place last night to watch the game, so I could say the same for you."

He just chuckled, knowing she'd caught him out on his quip, bending his knees to lower himself until they were face to face. "You're a dumb Bunny," he told her curtly, watching her lips quirk in a smirk.

"But…"

"But you're _my_ dumb Bunny." He ruffled the fur between her ears before standing up. "Thanks for driving me, by the way!"

"No problem!" She wandered in, pushing past him through to his small apartment. "I brought bagels!" She held up a paper bag he hadn't seen before, letting it swing in the air. "The guy behind the counter nearly had a _fit_ at me when I ordered cricket with bacon cream cheese."

"I owe you one," he sang over his shoulder, shutting the front door before wandering back to his room. "Leave it out on the counter, I'll eat it on the way.

"Was going to make you anyway," she called back. There was the sound of paper crumpling, and the next words she spoke were muffled by a mouthful -carrot and celery bagel no doubt. "We're running late!"

He grabbed his shirt and pants from where he'd folded them on top of his dresser the night before, letting pajamas drop the the bed. "No we're not, Carrots. You just get everywhere early."

"And I was hoping to be there early today!"

"We still will be. Relax."

He heard her foot give a few static thumps against the old tiles in his kitchen before it halted.

He was dressed in a few minutes, finding a decent tie from his rack (they'd tried to give him clip on and he'd refused with as little retching as possible) before leaving to join her in his small, rectangular box of a kitchen.

"Alright! Let's get goi-" A box was shoved under his nose and he almost lost his footing, tail going bushy under the stress of an unknown intruder. "What…" he backed up a step, swallowing to attempt and regain his cool. Though from the cocky grin on her face, she'd already seen and would no doubt be verbally replaying it forever. "What's that?" He tried again, giving the box a poke.

"A gift," she answered easily.

"Carrots, you are too sentimental at times, you know that?"

"Will you just open it?"

He would, under her ecstatic gaze. She jumped a few times, bumping the knuckles of her hands together in anticipation, watching him with her front teeth tucked about her lip.

It would end up being a tie. A plain one, from the looks of it. Simple and sleek and (by the feel) most likely real silk. Though his Carrots, he mused while his thumb and pointer brushed over ridiculously smooth fabric, never went halfway on anything.

"We're a team now," she pointed out happily, smiling at him from next to the deep blue tie, the two of them sizing the other up. "You and I."

Maybe he did have a flashback. A moment where he saw muzzles and children and handkerchiefs around necks and the call from Prey that they'd have to be idiots _to let a Predator be a part of them_. But that ended quickly enough when she was tugging at his shirt front, easing him down, plucking the other tie from him (a black and red one) and throwing it onto a counter next to a drying pot, then taking the new one from his as well.

It was looped around his neck, thrust under his collar.

"Crackers," she cursed under her breath, weighing out the two sides.

"Here, let-"

"No! I can _do_ this." She swatted his hand away. "You're my partner now. Well… almost." Flashing him a smile, she did her best to wrap one side over the other. "I _want_ to do this."

He chides a few more times, but ultimately lets her work. About ten minutes later (when he laughs hard enough to almost double over at how completely _determined_ she looks) when she's nearly halfway and has only gotten her fingers caught _twice_ he finally asks her her a question if only to fill the silence that's stanched the room. "What's gonna happen after this?"

She shrugs, and it's a small comfort that her worries aren't fathomable. "Nothing much," she says, tugging on the tie again with a growl, as if scaring it into submission might make the whole process go faster. "You'll do this. And then later in the week we'll have our own initiation. The chief explained it to me. To become partners. Sign some papers. Promise some things."

He's listening. But he's also not. Because children with sneers are peeking from the shadows and looking over stairways and making their ways back into permanence.

"Initiation…" The word is unexpectedly dry in the back of his throat.

She nods. "Yeah. Nothing big. Just the two of us. A few easy things that's all-"

 _Are you ready for initiation, Nick_!

 _Yeah_!

"Technically they're just going to ask us to make sure we're each other's emergency contacts. But… I mean… I'd like to think that there's more to it, you know?" She was looking at his tie, trying very hard not to meet his eyes. "I've heard that the rough part is all the promises though. Some people back out right away. I've seen it done before. It's really kind of heavy."

"What are we…" a swallow. "What are we promising…?"

 _I Nicholas Wilde…_

 _Promise…_

"To protect one another mostly." Her next shrug was heavier, and he could see that when she looked at his tie next it was less with concentration and more out of something he couldn't quite place. "It's a dangerous job, Nick. And we have to be willing to sign things that might… I mean…" And then she does look at him. Her eyes glitter, and he's reminded warily of moments behind pillars in museums. The kitchen had gone quiet, and in the background, behind the sneers of children in uniforms holding flashlights and threats, he could hear the clock ticking away. "It's… it's not safe. The life of a cop, I mean. The fact that one of us… one of us might not come home at the end of the day." The voices in his head paused at that, their jeers dying down to all look at the small Prey standing before the Predator. "That's really what the contract is, you know? It's really kind of… heavy…"

 _You can't protect her_ , said one of the troop members. _You're a Predator._

 _You're meant to hurt her. You've always been meant to hurt her._

 _She doesn't trust you_ …

Wilde had to curl his toes to keep from falling back. Memories of spray cans and bloody knees and muzzles all too much. "And… we'll sign it?" His throat bobs. "Together…?"

She'd told him that people had walked out. Why wouldn't it have been the same for her.

 _She doesn't trust you_ , one of the voices said again. _And isn't that such a shame? To not be trusted? To never be trusted. But what else is to be expected of a Predator who needs to protect his meal ticket-_

He feels the knot finally slip up, his self deprecation momentarily broken by her little cheer of happiness. "There we go!" She pat his chest. "And both of us? No. Just you. I already signed my last week."

And the group of children from a past filled with uniforms and muzzles and distrust all were forced back down into their seats and pressed into silence.

Judy was none the wiser of the odd conflicts her friend was going through, didn't quite understand the sappy smile he suddenly was showering down on her from his higher vantage point. Instead she just reached forward, smoothed down his shirt, hands lingering. Moving to quickly fiddle with his tie one last time. "I kind of miss the other one," she said, looking forlornly at the loud tie still sitting lonely next to the pot. "It had character."

"I _told_ you it was a good tie. And you always told me it was _ugly_."

"You were right," she told him. And even if he couldn't see it, even if he'd never understand, she remembered times of hatred and strife and butting heads as she wiggled the pin into place. And in a few simple tugs of a knot she could easily bring back moments of light that she did her best to disregard as anything else. And with a once over at strings and tassels she could recall betrayal and forgiveness and times when a chest had acted as the perfect place for being drawn in. When there had been hurt and help and a single promise _please trust that I won't hurt you_ and a replay of something not regretted. She plucked at his shoulders, picking at wrinkles. "You do look better in a tie."

"I never understand why you don't believe me."

"Because," she told him, "it takes a little while to get used to your style."

"But…" he prodded, twisting the knife.

She sighed through a smirk. " _But_ … it's your style. And I wouldn't change i- _eep_!" She was stuck under his arm before she had a chance to finish, his knuckles running over the downy fur of her head. "Ow! _Nick_! St- _ow_! Stop it!"

" _You like my style_!" He crowed into her large ears, cackling when she managed to break away, "I can't believe you actually _admitted_ it!"

"Oh _shut up_!"

"C'mere, Carrots! We're gonna celebrate! Celebratory noogie!"

"Ni- _no_! _No get away! I swear to- Nick!_ " She managed to rush out before him, hearing the door slam before he was chasing after her down the hall and flights of stairs, running past mammals who had wisely placed themselves against the side of the hall, blinking at the morbid reminiscence of a Fox chasing a Rabbit, the two of them howling in laughter as they finally exited the building into the early morning sun.

* * *

 **4 Hours and 37 Minutes Before**

It's held on a grassy lawn in the middle of Zootopia. Wilde hates it at first. Thinks it's too public. Holding his coffee in one hand, toying with his sunglasses in the other, he follows her with a fixed expression of nonchalance on his face, nodding to others who regarded him with strange looks. There are rows of lawn chairs lined up. A Gazelle hands him a program, tells him where he's to be seated (alphabetically and, much to his distaste, nowhere near Hopps) and he and Judy move through the throng of people until he's near to where he's meant to be.

She waves, turns on her hell, but stops when a claw taps her on the shoulder.

"What? No hug?" He opened his arms wide, bending down, offering her a look that could either be affectionate or smug as hell. You could never really tell with Nicholas Wilde.

"Don't you need to be over there, or something…" she muttered, making a point of not looking towards him.

"Not even a little kiss on the cheek." He offered a lecherous sneer through lidded eyes when all he got was a huff in return. "Fine! Leave me without! I'll just live my life… sad… alone… unwanted…"

"If you're lose your seat, you can't blame me."

He rolled his eyes, catching the sight of some particularly fluffy clouds. "They're marked. I'll be fine. But hey, I know when I'm not wanted."

"You ever consider acting as a career? You're dramatic enough for it."

"Why Officer Toot-Toot! You insult me!"

She let out a huff of a laugh, scratching behind her head. "You're never gonna let that go, are you?"

"What? The moment we met? Never. How can I forget the cute little meter maid with her dreams of granduer."

"You can be a real ass sometimes, you know that?"

"Aw, c'mon. You know you love me…"

She doesn't answer, but he can see the way her ears flicker, her smile following just enough to be noticed. "Go sit down, Wilde," she murmurs, turning on her heel. "I'll see you up there."

So he does turn. Gives her something between a glare and a sneer and a smarmy grin and turns on his heel, marching towards his seat. People stare, but he's expecting it. He just ignores them (lie) and stays confident and cool (lie) and doesn't at all need anyone next to him to at least make him feel more comfortable in a place he somehow still doesn't belong (lie, lie, lie).

But he's Nicholas Wilde. And he's gotten through worse. And he'll get through this too. He dons his glasses and fixes his expression and moves onward.

He's halfway down the long isle when he's stopped by the far off voice behind him.

" _Wait_!" Nick made a half turn towards it, face calm in its seemingly permanent resting boredom. But that quickly changed to shock when the grey streak barreled into him and he had to spread his legs just to keep balance. The breath knocked out of him, he has to take a moment to regain it before he's laughing, head thrown back in honesty joy that turns into chuckles and a fond smirk. He hoisted up his glasses, balancing them on his brow to look at her without the veil of a darkened lens.

"Finally folded, huh?" He gave the back of her head a little _skritch_ with his claws before smoothing down her ears, his other hand winding around her back, careful not to drop his coffee down her spine, dragging her closer.

"Shuddup…" he could hear her say, mumbling into his chest. "This is your punishment for being an idiot. Take it with a vengeance."

"Oh. No. Please. Stop. I'll do anything."

"You're only making this harder on yourself."

Her fur was soft, but she had always been made up of sharp angles, and when she pulled him down to make the hug more equal on both ends, he let out a soft sound of complaint. "You're like a block of wood," Nick chided. "You know that? I think I'm bruising."

"Shut up." Judy gave him a poke in the ribs. "You're going to take this hug and you're going to _enjoy_ it."

"Forceful, aren't we?"

"You're adversary only makes me hug you longer!" She sang.

Nick snorted, but did settle in against her, happy enough to comply. Many days he found himself pulling her close. She'd never been much of a hugger herself. But on the occasion that she was (and those occasions did, time to time, occur) she'd either fixed her arms round his middle or pulled him down with a gruff shyness. Eventually though he'd just learned to tell which was coming to help her along the way. They weren't the same height, and he had at least a good foot on her. But they were both good at compromise, and somehow it had been a natural sort of feeling to bend at the right angle to better allow for her to wind her arms about his neck.

She had her favorite spot, it would seem. The little nook between his neck and shoulder, and she'd bury herself away in it, her nose wiggling against shampoo and the pulse point where he sprayed his dollar store cologne. He felt her nose give a little twitch of anxiety, her whiskers pressing and poking, before she was pulling away. Her eyes were shining but her smile was full.

Then she'd pull away. "Knock 'em dead," she whispered.

He readjusted his glasses, took a sip of coffee, and gave her a salute.

* * *

 ** _Five Minutes Before_**

His tie was skewed. And while he stood in line, staring down at tufts of grass, he noticed it- years of experience wearing one easily giving him a good eye.

But he refrained. Because, watching from from her seat in the front, staring at him with ears pinned back, nose wiggling, he knew she'd seen it as well. She'd look both ways, giving other attendees a glance, before sneaking off her chair to tip toe over to him. He acted like he didn't see her until she was at his side, paws fiddling gently with the knot by a stiff collar.

"Worried much, Carrots?" he asked, though there was no salt in the tone.

She laughed, nervous and shaking. "No. Just… emotional."

"You bunnies always were."

"Yeah…" Another tug. The knot fell into place. Someone began announcements. "I've got to go now, Carrots." he smiled. "And so do you."

"Yeah." She said again.

* * *

 ** _One Minute and 37 seconds before_**

It was a surprise when his tie was pulled and he was brought once more to her level. Something brushed his cheek lightly and then her arms were back around his neck. "I'm proud of you, Nick." She said, soft as a sigh. "I'm _so_ proud of you."

His tie was mussed from being used as a pulley. But he didn't fix it. He didn't want to. Didn't _have_ to. His swelled chest did enough to hide it anyway. Besides, the moment she pinned the badge to his chest, handing off the wooden box to a Polar Bear standing behind, she'd already paused just a moment to fix it herself. And he let her. Realized he always would.

Her speech was incredible. The sun was bright. His coffee was strong. His tie was mussed.

There was a smile.

A nod.

A salute.

The badge weighed almost nothing, but her eyes weighed too much and he fell into them with a hope that he'd be able to have them looking back at him with the same pride they did at that moment every day of their lives together.

He really, truly, hoped.

A small child peeped out that he was a predator and she wouldn't.

But a bunny, newly settled as a fixture in his mind, glared at the group of prey and told them all, with complete certainly, that she forever and a day would.

* * *

Later that night, stumbling back after a few drinks at a local brewery (her treat) she'd sat on his bed, bouncing lightly, watching him hang his newest tie up with the others. "I tied that one," she chirped, happy as ever. " _I_ , Officer Judy Hopp's, now know how to _tie ties_."

"Whoo boy!" He flashed a wide grin over his shoulder, rooting about for a shirt that didn't feel like it was strangling him slowly. He found one of the newly gifted ZPD ones -a soft grey cotton thing with the letters sprawled across the chest and **Precinct 1** scrawled in a smaller font on the back- and gave it a nod, shaking it out. "You should add that to your resume! I can see the headlines now!" Brushing the paw holding the shirt dramatically across the air, his other hand working to loosen the knot at his neck, he crowed, "Officer Toot-Toot! Finally entering the adult world!"

"You joke, but I'm still gonna be proud!"

"Oh, I'm aware." He took off his own tie, unbuttoned his shirt. She lazily draped her paws over her eyes, listening to him fumbling with the stiff collar. A neighbor turned on their air conditioning and the rattle off it shook the wall before dying down. From outside there was a drunken argument. A bottle smashed somewhere down the street. "You're proud of just about everything."

"Of course I am! Who wouldn't be!"

"Many, many people."

"Well that's just _awful_."

"Not all of us have such a cheery way of looking at life, Carrots."

"Well, you should," she piped up.

"Uh huh. And you're proud of _everything_."

He watched her pause, her brow furrowing under the paws on her face. Saw her thinking back, watching her face fall for the barest of moments. He slipped his shirt off, throwing it to the side. "Well…" she tucked her legs closer to her body. "Not _everything_. Can't be proud of everything all the time, I guess."

"Too true." He stuck his head though the shirt, ears pressed back when his face popped out.

"I hope you know that that's not gonna change much. I'm still going to be happy about lots of things."

"I didn't have a doubt."

"I'll still be ridiculously proud about the tie."

"Oh trust me. I know."

"And I'm proud of you!"

She'd already said it before, and this time there was less emotion in her voice. Just a frank honesty that was a constant that somehow seemed to drag his dusty heart back into another flutter of beats. He cleared his throat, forcing back the butterflies that had started a migration against his ribs. "Yup…" he said, doing his best to hide the rasp. "I know…"

"Good!"

"You can open your eyes, Carrots." She did, smiling at him from her place on the bed. "Right. We gonna drink or not. I need a beer."

She beats him to the door before he even has a chance to race her, moving down the short hallways towards where she knows the kitchen is. He can hear the sound of clinking. The _hiss_ of pressure as his fridge locks itself closed.

"Hey! You've got a few things in here. Looks like an IPA and... whatever this is? What's a _labic_? Is one better than the other. I'm not really sure." He moves towards the entrance way, looking into the small rectangular space. She looks back for a moment and smiles at him. "You're getting the better one," she promises, waving the two bottles before placing them onto the counter. "Oh! Hey! You wanna order food, too! My treat! Since it's your graduation and all. And maybe they have an old movie on- we've been dying to see that one about the haunted house and the- _eep_!"

She means to walk past him.

She never makes it.

His arms are around her before she has a chance to get out. She stiffens.

For once, there's no tie. No tie for her to lean her head against. No tie to bump against her in familiar recognition. No tie to hold and tug through the anxiety of capture. He's wearing his new t-shirt and a pair of black boxers and there's nothing between her and the body of a predator that holds her so tightly, blocking out the light.

But he still holds her.

Holds her until she begins to loosen in his arms, tentatively winding her own around him.

He's always been affectionate, and so cursing her to hell and back for making him actually discover that about himself he leans his head against hers and relaxes in the embrace.

"You know I trust you..." he says at one point,

"Yeah..." she says, leaning her head to the side to not get a mouthful of t-shirt.

"And you know I can't wait to start all this with you."

"Yeah."

"And I'm really actually impressed that you can tie a tie even though its a skill for a six year old who's got shoes with laces."

"... I know."

He gives her a squeeze before stepping back.

For a moment it looks like she wants to say something. Instead; "I'll grab the beers." And she's off once more, delving them strait back into normalcy that he can easily find his place in.

She's still wearing her outfit, and at one point he dissapears into his room, comes back out with a shirt that smells like him and is big enough to encompass the whole of her body. "Relax a while, Hopps," he tells her jovially, stretching out on the couch and smiling at her. "After all, the best part about a tie is taking it off at the end of the day."

She does, ducking into the bathroom, coming back out drowning in a tacky button up.

The two spend the rest of the night tie-less.

And he finds that not having to impress anyone, sitting next to the one person he wants to impress most in the entire world, must be _exactly_ what friendship feels like.

He decides, by the time she's asleep at his side, plucking the half empty beer bottle hanging uselessly from her paw before grabbing a quilt to cover her up, that it is.

And the children in his head, watching the Predator and Prey lose the formalities for something that lacks a title, stay silent and muzzled.

And Wilde, guided only by slivers of moonlight, retreats to his bedroom, glances one last time at his badge winking from on top of his dresser, before hanging up his newest tie on the rack next to patterns that scream of memories and mistakes and choices made and friendships found, and finally heads to bed.

* * *

 **That's it! There you go! A _MESS_ of a chapter is done! **

**Now more _messes_ can follow its path!**

 **FOR THOSE WHO ARE ASKING- I AM NOT TAKING REQUESTS ANYMORE FOR THIS STORY. I will ask when I need them or am puttering out.**

 **But if you DO have something you'd like to see, please feel free to pm me. I will NOT be taking stories that are specific or have full plots. Ideas only! Short, to the point things!**

 **YOU ALL ARE THE BEST, THANK YOU SO MUCH AND I CAN'T WAIT FOR THOSE WHO SUBMITTED IDEAS TO SEE THEIRS COME TO LIFE! Can't wait to let you see what's in store, and as always keep reading and keep writing! I want to see you all crafting your own stories!**

 **Have a great day lovelies! Mwah!**


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